Fucked

 Why doesn't anybody actually love me? What am I that is so terrible that every relationship in my life where someone is supposed to be there for me and love me doesn't go that way? No one accepts me when I'm hurting, being human. I'm only loved when I'm being what people want me to be. When I'm helpful and useful. I want to be seen and loved for me. I know this is not promised in life, but some people seem to find it. I thought I had in my husband, but I don't think I actually have. He's resentful and full of disdain for me lately. My husband doesn't love me anymore. I'm pretty convinced of this. He sees me as whiney, naggy, unappealing. He hates things about me that I can't change. He insults and criticizes and projects and shuts down. He used to care and try. And I don't know when and why he stopped, but he has. It hurts me so fucking badly to see every day. It makes me anxious, scared, hurt... I don't even how what to do or say to avoid him lashing out at me. He mind-reads, and in his mind I'm a terrible person. He thinks everything I say is me insulting him in some way. It never is... I don't know how to fix this - I don't think I can. 

I fucking hate the lucky people. I don't want a million photos of your baby that's fucking easy for you to raise and not fucking autistic. I don't want to hear your fantasies of having a kid and buying them things and how much fun you'll have. I don't want to see photos of how fucking perfect your single life is. I'm fucking miserable, and I can't change my life and I'm so fucking JEALOUS of everyone else who can. 

I'm just stuck in a shitty body in a shitty house in a shitty marriage with a shitty kid in a shitty town with my shitty job. 

I don't want any of this anymore. I don't want to parent a special needs kid. I don't want to listen to everyone else's problems anymore. I don't want to be married to a man that acts like this. I don't want a stepson that's this much work and doesn't fucking understand anything because my husband knocked up the fucking DUMBEST woman on the face of this earth before I even came along. 

I worked so hard in life and tried so hard to be a good person and do the right thing and give everything to other people, and this is the life it created. It's fucking terrible. I hate it. I had so many paths before me and I chose this one, and it was the worst choice. I know I couldn't have known, but why did it have to go like this?? Why if I entered everything with all the best intentions did it lead to this much suffering?? Now I have to pop a pill every morning just to not kill myself and smoke weed just to not get violent with people, and stuff my face and throw it up just to numb how unloved I am. 

I need a change, and I don't know what it needs to be. But I can't continue to live like this. 

Idk wtf my life is lately

I haven’t been smoking. I’m adjusting to it. It makes me a little manic, and it’s hard to unwind at night, but my eating is better. I’ve been doing projects and other things to try to help with unwinding. It’s sometimes successful. 

I decided to go vegan again. I like it. I feel good about food when I’m vegan. 

My therapist said we “could continue to discuss it,” but I did it anyway. She should have said it’s my choice… today we discussed it and she gave me the green light. She says I need to just be honest with myself about my patterns. 

She says if I just eat normally, my body will adjust and start to lose. I’m not convinced, but I’m going to give it a shot and see. Last time I went vegan I ate whatever I wanted and lost 15lbs in a month. I weighed in this morning and I’m down bit. I really want yo get down to a good number. 

Haunted

I found a therapist that I think I actually like and trust her abilities. I’ve been honest about everything except one detail. That’s better than I usually do. 

Thanksgiving has sucked. It’s to a point where my husband is basically all I have. It’s not a full enough life for me, but I also don’t know if I could handle much more than this. This seems like too much sometimes. And I don’t have options for family. I only have options for heartache. 

I’m getting stuck in the past tonight. I have the urge to read all my old blog entries but I’m not going to. I skimmed and that was defeating enough. I’m just thinking about Chevy. And Ry. And my friends from undergrad. 

I’ve lost so many people in my life, and I often wonder if they ever even think about me. I wonder if I had an impact. If they loved me like I loved them. If they miss anything about me. I wonder if they thought I was special; if they viewed me as a toy or a treasure. I wonder if they google me like I do them (only to find very little, because we are quite alike in that respect). I wonder what they would say if they told the story of me to someone else - what would that summary be. I wonder if they ever hear a song that reminds them of me every time it plays. I wonder how they picture me in their minds’ eye if they envision what I looked like. I wonder if they look back at the moments when we drifted or were forced apart and think of those moments as mistakes. 

I feel on the verge of an emotional breakdown, but I don’t know why. I almost cried multiple multiple times at work today. I did cry for a bit earlier. And I have no idea where it’s coming from. I slept last night. Nothing terrible is going on. It’s not the time of month that is influenced by hormones. I’m at a loss. 

But I’m sad. 

I’m so sad that I’m crying as I type this and don’t want to start crying without a real reason and get a migraine over nothing. Not worth it. 

I wish I could figure myself out. I wish I could get my shit together and stop being a fuck up. I wish I could have the life I wanted so badly. And some of it will never happen, but I wish I could turn this life into something better than what this is looking like. 

I simultaneously know I need to count my blessings, because the people I love aren’t dead, and I haven’t suffered like others have this week. I’m still here and mostly intact and still have a chance that this will get better. 

Hate it all

My weight has slammed on the breaks. I want to be able to work out more but by the end of the day I have nothing left mentally or physically. I hate it. I don’t know what to do about it right now in my life. 

I’m tired of people. I’m sick of listening to everyone else when I’m so depressed. I just want to lay in bed in the dark with my rain noises in my ears and not engage with anyone. I’ve had anxiety for days now and I can’t stop it. I don’t have weed and I don’t want to do that anyway because it makes me eat. So I’m just stuck feeling like this waiting for it to pass. 

I hate everything. 

It’s still ok

Almost fucked up this morning. 

Home alone with weed and no big meals for like 5 days. My brain was pushing me to eat a big meal. I talked myself down to a medium meal. I burned it. I ate a small meal. 

Beans, egg whites, salsa - 120 cals

I have been being social again, doing things… I feel like I’ve gotten a dose of my old life a bit. Hung out with Ham last night and had the best time and didn’t lose myself in calories. Still under 700 for the day even with eating out and having a drink. Today I’m reuniting with Raw, and I can’t even express my excitement… there will also be no food there so no worries. 

I’m going to watch Ana approved tv and have a coffee. Think thin. 

Fatty fat fat

I am fat. Fat fat fat. Fatfatfatfatfat. 

My stomach can suck a dick - I’m not eating. 

That is all. 

Have a nice day, and think thin. 

Losing

I’m losing. 

I need to desperately - 20lbs more right now. I can do that. I did that in the past in 3 weeks. I don’t expect my body to even be able to drop it that quickly now, but it’s been cooperating nicely. 

Today’s eats:

B: coffee and oatmeal - 80 cals

L: chicken salad and lettuce - 130 cals

S: celery and dip - 40 cals

D: chicken and spaghetti squash - 230 cals

Total: 480 cals

It’s amazing. I feel amazing. I have tons of safe foods prepped. I have all the things I need to be successful. 

I’m going to take a bath and drink a sleepy tea and take a sleepy pill and go to bed before hunger pangs strike. 

Hi Ana

Today’s eats:

B: oatmeal - 100 cals

L: tostada with beans - 100 cals

D: zuccchini with turkey sauce - 350 cals

Total: 550 cals

I’m back. 

I feel good this evening. I’m ready to kill off this far girl that’s been living in my body. I’ll manage the shakes. I’ll manage the pangs and distractions. I can still do surprisingly well at work even when deprived of food. 

I want the starved look. The look where you know someone lost weight in unhealthy ways quickly. It’s powerful. It shows people that you have willpower and self control and dedication. I’m tired of girls at the beach looking at me to alleviate their own insecurities. I’m tired of this shit body. 

My weight wasn’t terrible today. Well it’s terrible, but not more horrifying than I expected. Tomorrow will be even better. TT. 

Ana can come back

Reasons my sex drive is low:

It’s hard to want to fuck someone who’s so fucking miserable every moment and criticizes you constantly. 

It’s getting boooooring.  

My body is not what I want it to be right now. 

I’m literally so fucking tired every moment. 

The begging and whining about it when I know we have plenty of it is getting sooo old and pathetic. 

I need to lose weight. 

I saw pictures of myself at the beach. It was awful. I’m fat as fuck and hate my body. I am ugly and not a person who carries any extra weight well. I don’t think I’ve ever looked worse except that I just lost 20lbs already… I can’t imagine how bad I looked at that point. 

In light of this, I’m going to get serious. I’m going to let myself get disordered. I’m going to follow the rules. 

I purged twice on vacation weekend. I binged several times leading up to it. 

I’ve been blowing off my therapist. I know she can see if I read a message, so I haven’t been reading them. Eventually I’ll just get another one. Maybe. First this. “It’s never been my goal to stop restricting.”

Breakfast:

-Coffee with Splenda, apple. 

Snack:

-Supplements 

Lunch:

-100 calorie meal

Dinner: 

-Meat and veg 

Dessert:

-Hot tea

Total: 350 on good days. 500 max. 

Take meds, don’t smoke, drink water, ignore hunger, try to move body. 

One last hurrah? Think thin. 

Intensity that is me

Still broke. 

I hate my therapist. 

Idk what to do about it. I don’t know if it’s valid. When I tell people, they say it is, but why is it always so impossible for me to find one I like?? She’ll be the 3rd one in the past couple years. The first one didn’t give me any input whatsoever, the second one seemed to have no idea what to tell me, and now this one talks too much and says she “completely understands,” which is fucking completely not true. 

My weight is dropping. Slowly but surely. When I don’t smoke, my appetite is moderated by my Wellbutrin, and I don’t binge. But then I can’t get the relaxation I need, and I’m fucking tense all the time and irritable. Ideally I need to be able to smoke moderately. 

But idk if I can. 

Tonight I purged, because the past 24 hours stressed me the fuck out, and dinner wasn’t sitting well. 

I am in such a funk. 

Idk what I really want to do about my eating disorder. My homework in therapy is making me really realize this. I am pretty ok with it when the result is loss. And I desperately need to lose. I need to get back to a place where I’m comfortable. It’s been years stuck and feeling miserable. 

I hate myself and this fucking body I live in. 

Can I eat moderately, smoke moderately, and get to a moderately decent weight?? 

Why the fuck am I always so intense??

Literally so bad

I’m a failure that should apologize for her very existence. I can’t get the tears to form, but it feels like a mental breakdown is imminent. I tried to provoke it today, but I’m too dulled - on the edge of panic, but never falling over it into the chasm. I wish I could peel my skin off and gauge my eyes out and rip my hair out. My physical body does me no good, and I hate it, and it hates me, and it’ll probably always be like that. I don’t know if there is a chance to feel better than this anymore, or if this is just what I’m destined for. I’m losing hope. I can’t sleep. I can’t feel awake. 

That is all. 

Broke af

I hate my fucking life. 

I’m tired of listening to other peoples’ fucking issues and complaints about how terrible their lives are with their hundreds of dollars of expendable income monthly and their group of good friends and partners who aren’t fucked up and their normal kids. 

I’m tired of being fat and sad. I’m tired of living in shitty embarrassing houses and not going anywhere or doing anything because I’m broke. I’m tired of fashion and home decor being inaccessible to me. I’m so tired of being poor. I’m so tired of a bank account that’s fucking empty all the time. 

I want to run away from all of this. I get it now. I get the moms. I get waiting until you think your kids are well enough off and then leaving the sorry piece of shit that ruined your life and all that that entails. 

I made bad choices. I had so many other nice decent options. It could have been so easy. It could have had a level of fake where I would have been in charge and given whatever I wanted. I thought I deserved better or that I could create something out of fucking nothing. I was a fucking idiot. I knew how to do it all and enjoyed it and chose to give it all up thinking it would be better and it’s fucking not. It’s not better at all. 

I can’t live like this forever. I need better. 

Hate me

 MRO call. Fuck. I called the recruiter. Pretty sure it was a mistake. Pretty sure I’m making them over and over because my anxiety is killing me. 

I should google more. I hate myself right now. I think no news is good news, but I’m not sure how this will go. I hate myself. 

Things idk

The job still had not called as of this afternoon. I was freaking out. Ham said call them. I did. Waiting on labs. Idk if that’s normal, but the recruiter made it sound like standard things. I keep having a thought my pee wasn’t clean, but I tested it, so I keep talking myself down from that ledge.

I am so excited for this change, but trying to be cautious about it. I can’t wait to get my car and new work clothes and to start making consistent money. I know the job might be challenging, but I also feel capable. It’s weird, but I do feel like a capable person in that domain. I feel like I learn well and stay organized, and I can honestly learn anything if I try to.

My weight is dropping steadily. I've lost a good amount - 25lbs since my surgery when I weighed in today. The last 9 days I only had one bad one. That’s insanely impressive. Right now I’m a little hungry, but it’s easy to go to sleep for dinner, right? 

Quitting weed was the secret. I let my card lapse. I haven’t asked for one exception. The job is part of it, but I think it was more just the catalyst for what needed to happen all along. My meds now get to work like they are supposed to. Throw a little caffeine on top, and it’s golden. I feel so much better, just like I thought I would. 

I would really like to get to go on a vacation for Christmas. I would really like to be in a body I like at that point. 

Working out is the next challenge to tackle. But first we start this new job. 

Words

Someone else will get to say those words to me

It should be you, but I guess you couldn’t see

That I waited practically forever, but 

Someone else will get to say those words to me

The compliments and flattery are lovely 

Sometimes they really do feel so sincere

But then the things I know you’ll take back later

The broken stinging bringing me to tears

Behavior is the thing I can’t stop seeing 

My eyes and my ears just somehow don’t agree

I’m never  sure where we are in this journey

I’m never sure if you truly long for me

The pushing and the grasping state intention

You want me to pull the trigger in the end

I didn’t want this to be our story

I know that you could never be my friend 

This love is meant to be all or nothing 

Well burn bright and burst right into flames

I should not have hoped for happy ever after 

My life and yours will never be the same

I wonder if all love will hurt this badly 

Sometimes it’s what keeps me up at night

I think when this is over I’ll be lonely 

But this pain is too deep to unsee the sight 

Actually ok

The goal lately has been under 1,000 calories per day. It’s been 5 solid days. I am actually feeling good. 

The biggest part is planning. I need things available. I need to like the things. It’s ok if they are ridiculous and random meals - I need them. I need to be ok with them and go to whatever lengths to get them - even if that’s a random grocery order at 8am that’s all yogurts and vegetables and chicken. I need to make a list of things that are ok with me to eat. I need to allow myself whatever makes me feel fueled and good. 

I need to keep up not smoking. It’s made a huuuuge difference with my eating. I can tell my meds are working properly now that I’m not. 

Idk I hope all this lasts. I hope I get my new job start date soon. I’m scared about it and trying not to be. 

I bought a car. I hope I get to keep it. 

Sexiness

I want to be sexy again. I want to feel sexy. I want my body to be appealing to others. I want to get hit on. Listed after. I want to be worshipped. 

I have no regrets about my slutty past. Except maybe I should have done it a bit more a bit sooner. 

It’s really time to get skinny. Regardless of what that looks like. 

Hope?

I really wish I would have stopped fuckingggg smoking. 

I have an interview. For a good job. That’s still in my field but would eliminate the things that are stressing me the fuck out lately. And the money is more than I make now.

I impulsively want to do a lot of math on this and am trying not to as to not get my hopes up. The outlook looks promising. 

I applied yesterday and they called me today. It’s at my old company. Do I really want to go back? Actually, yes, a little… I think for the money I’d make it’s blissful. It would be a great thing on my resume that could catapult me into even higher paying jobs. It’s a good move. 

I want to find my balance again. I want chaos. I want to be so engulfed with work I forget to eat. I want to wear makeup and heels again. I want my fucking office back. I want to engage with adults besides my husband and clients. I want to feel like I’m doing important things again. 

I realized I can never be still. I always want the next thing. More. Better. I can’t stop. 

But my pee could interfere with this process. Hopefully not. Working on a detox and hoping I won’t need a masker for the pee test. Hoping I have time. Hoping for a lot out of this. 

Living is awful

Therapy is complete bullshit. It’s just a bunch of self-absorbed people inflating each others’ egos. It doesn’t fucking work, because no one ever knows what the fuck to do about the issues. It’s all a fucking wrong guess. They act like the answers are already inside, but if that were the case, no one would fucking need it. 

I believe in the concept of ending it… Like, I get it. Sometimes I’m so jealous of those who kill themselves. It’s such an efficient and selfish and poetic thing to do. I wish I just had earlier. Now I can’t, and it’s tragic. I should have done it before I was ensnared in this life he promised me and can’t, or won’t, deliver. I should have done it before the moments I ever had someone to make me a hollow promise about a future together. 

I wonder how close I could get… I wonder if anyone would pay attention if I started to wither away. Is there anyone to even see at this point?

I think of alternative lives daily. Ones where I stayed or left or went another way. I imagine ones that come from whispers of dreams, and spend entire days tucked away there only to awaken at the end to experience the acutest moments of pain and abuse. Little pinpricks after a day of fogginess. I cry every single day, which it a little ridiculous if you think about it. I need to lower my expectations and not hope so much. I keep thinking small glimpses of good mean there is good to see, but there isn’t. It’s just a desert mirage - shiny and hopeful, until you get closer and realize it’s just a scorching lifeless stretch of ground ahead of you. Forever. 

They act like it gets better in life, but it never fucking does. Whatever shit level of life you’re born into is where you’ll stay. You’ll change shitty things, and feel good for a brief shining moment, and then life will throw new shitty things at you for you to overcome. It never gets better. And I don’t think those small moments are worth it. 

I don’t know if it would even make a difference to start a different life. I can suffer in this one, or suffer alone, or suffer with new people in new places with new experiences. Do I just keep the most familiar of pain? I know why people stay. The devil you know, and all that. 

I’m increasingly wanting to leave this life and mapping out the newer journey. But I have no idea. 

One month

What if, for one month, you did all the things you know to do to take care of yourself?

Don’t smoke

Drink water

Take meds

Shower 2x daily 

Skincare daily 

No binging

Keep a clean house 

Projects and outings on the weekends

Maintain toes, brows, nails, shaving 

Don’t spend money you don’t need to spend 

Eat reasonable breakfast, lunch, dinner 

No snacking 

Go to therapy 

Hook up with husband 

Teeth care 

Go to bed on time

Get up early 

Work out 

I can do all this if I get organized. If I manage to keep my anxiety at bay. If I let myself go easy on doing the things. If I don’t let other peoples emotions derail me. 

One month. Let’s just try. 

Drained

I cannot wait until my mother does not know where I live.

Today was absolute garbage. I had to rehome the kitten I got for my husband for his birthday because he was a little shit that was terrorizing my cat. I am not recovered from RoevWade. My husband and children were all in terrible funks, and I had to hear all about the cunt’s house, because I can’t make my own suffering more than my kiddo’s. Then the mom texts rolled in. I should just anticipate at this point that any time I’m having a shit day and feeling fragile that she will reach out to me to ruin my day a bit further. 

She must be dying with how she’s acting. She wants me to let it all go or be the bad guy in this, and neither of those options are fair to me whatsoever. She wanted to know if I have any love for her. I don’t even know. I just know that tonight I hate her. 

I already don’t want to exist tomorrow. My head hurts. 

Same.

I'm exhausted by the redundancy of it all. I'm tired.

I don't know if my antidepressants are helping me. I'm not sure because I can't stop smoking weed. I wasted my entire day yesterday being mentally checked out and focusing on food. I took laxatives to ruin my day today. I'm so sick of binging and purging. I'm so sick of feeling like garbage.

I'm so tired of doing this to myself. 

I realized last night laying in bed feeling like garbage that I hate my body. It's not just how it looks - I hate it in general. Yes, I REALLY hate how it looks, but I also hate all the details of it - my hair, nose, skin, allergies, stomach issues... I hate that it gave me a child with needs beyond what I'm capable of. I hate this chemically imbalanced brain and my hormone issues. I could make a list as long as my fat arms that explain every single part of it that I hate. I feel trapped in it. 

I feel like exercise is something I really need to get a handle on, and it's hard because to exercise you have to focus on your body, and I hate doing that so much that I avoid it. I avoid mirrors. I avoid buying clothes, putting on makeup, listening to compliments. I wish I could swap this body for someone else's. 

I don't know when it got this bad, but I need to figure out a way to shift this. 

I have to give up smoking for the rest of my life. 

Fuckfuckfuck

Can’t. Stop. Hating. Me. 

Can’t. Stop. Feeling. Suicidal. 

Can’t stop eating. 

I wish I could die die die die die. 

I won’t kill myself, but damn. 

Why can’t I enjoy my life?? Like ever…

Blah on the screen

I’m trying to get myself back on track. It has not been a good week…

I won’t rant about my husband anymore. I know he tries; he just also exhausts me. I’m so hot and cold about him, it’s tragic. I wonder if he feels the same. I feel like we don’t like each other lately. I wish I could fix it. Idk how in our current situation. 

My mom is dying, apparently. I feel badly that I don’t care. I feel badly that my brother never built a life without them, so once she’s gone he will suffer more. I feel badly that my dad will fall off the wagon in a burning blaze of glory once she’s gone. I feel badly that my kids don’t get a grandmother. I don’t feel badly for myself at all… I don’t even miss her, and that’s really sad. It’s also shocking that she knows she is dying and can’t even say sorry. She will take it all to her grave that I probably won’t visit more than once. And maybe the recent events won’t be the end for her, but the end will come and all this will be aplicable at that time regardless. 

I need to lose weight. I don’t care anymore about the health of it. I will restrict and purge for a bit. 1,000 max a day is the goal, or else you throw it up. Fuck you, Cally. Yesterday was good. Today is good so far. If I’m going to have disordered behavior regardless, that makes me feel like absolute shit, then it might as well be behavior that makes me look better.

I need to work out. I am not as strong as I need to be. My body is weaker than it’s ever been, and I don’t like it. I need to keep some flexibility and strength. I need to figure out how to make that happen for myself. 

I wish I had a fucking personal trainer. 

Who fucking cares

Suicidal for days, and the husband won’t stop nagging. 

He used to be nice. He used to act like he liked me. He has no fucking empathy. He’s mean.

I have nothing. I have friends I never see because I’m too poor and embarrassed to see them, a body that I don’t want, a husband who hates the world and his family, parents who are hateful and going to die with their pride intact, and kids who just create a huge amount of emotional work for me. 

I can’t spend $20 in my life without comments. I can’t tell him anything without him being critical. I fucking hate him. I genuinely don’t want him. He makes everyone miserable around him - he’s like a fucking cancer. 

“Nobody wants him” was right. I don’t know why I thought it would be different. I should have chosen a different path. 

All relationships are garbage. I want to be away from all people. They are all terrible. I want to take baby and run away forever. That’s the plan one day. Just 14 more years to go. 

Fuck it all.

My mood is fucking terrible. Idk why. I think focusing on my issues is making them larger. Therapy just hurts so far and I keep piecing together shit that’s related to my shitty fucking mother whom I hate. 

I’m suicidal. Depressed. Eating disordered. Feeling like a terrible person. Hurt for my hurt little baby. So scared for the future.

That’s the real one. I’m so scared for the future. 

I guess my end plan can always been the case… I just wouldn’t know who to leave and who should go. There are the two connections I can’t sever. My life is so complicated…

I hate myself. I truly do, and I wish it were not the case. But I’m pretty sure I’m not lovable unless I change. I feel like he’s waiting for me to be lovable. I think I used to be more lovable… now I’m just fucking tired all the time and dismayed with how much I’m like my mom. 

So yeah. I hate myself. 

Brain dumping

My anxiety is terrible today. My heart will start to race, and I don't know why. It's just coming out of nowhere.

Eating has been meh. Weed is gone for rn. One use = one binge. It's not worth it. Weight is unknown, but last number wasn't terrible. Hubby and I are doing ok, aside from money, but that remedy is on the horizon anyway. We've come to terms with living here longer, and I feel good about it all. 

It's the people pleasing... It's bad lately, and it makes me hate myself. I want to lose weight so badly. I want a life with a little less work. 

I think I eternally need more sleep, but my body is so used to the terrible patterns that I can't fix it that easily... Even when toddler sleeps through the night, mommy can't. I wake up at 3am and struggle to fall back asleep, and I'm up at 6:30 for the day... It's so frustrating. My ideal life schedule:

Wake up 6:30am

Work out 7-8am

Shower/Breakfast 8-9am

Start work 9am

Lunch 12-12:30

Work 12:30-4:30pm

Clean house 4:30-5pm

Cook dinner 5-6pm

Eat dinner 6pm.

Clean up dinner, unwind, play with kids, bath and bed time. 

In bed relaxing by 10pm

Asleep by 10:30pm

Issues with this - Baby does not sleep through night, so getting up at 6:30am, I am exhausted. I force myself at 7am to get moving and that means just getting my ass to work by 8am... Being asleep by 10:30pm is not even something he does consistently. And a 7 hour workday does not give me the income I need to stay afloat. 

I need to do better now tho than what I'm doing... 

Hurt

No weed is going well, but it’s made me reach for other things to achieve the desired level of sedation. 

Yesterday was a beta blocker, Xanax, and NyQuil. The Xanax helped for a couple hours to get me through work, even though I cried 3 times in the process. The beta blocker kept me from getting violent. The NyQuil got negated due to a texting conversation where I told my husband exactly how I feel. 

Which is pain. I feel so much fucking pain lately. 

I made the wrong choices from a good place, and they all backfired. And sometimes I want them all gone. I want to fix what I messed up. I don’t need a family - they all suck. I want no one and nothing. I want to live in a little house in the middle of nowhere with my baby and just be left alone. I want to be a hermit. 

People hurt me. 

Tonight, all of it is dulled. I got it out. I cried so hard my nose was not usable, and this morning my eyes would barely open they were so puffy. I used too much nasal spray to be able to breathe and burned my sinus cavity. I threw up severely this afternoon for no identifiable reason. I have felt like garbage physically for three weeks. 

But I had a good day at work. I felt good about it. I soaked for an hour in the tub tonight and felt like a different person when I emerged. I think I need to do that more frequently.

I think no weed is important tbh. I have been too reliant on it. When I don’t take it my meds work better. My eating is better. 

Food and I are in an ok place at the moment.

By my standards at least. 

I don’t think food and I will ever really be truly ok, but I haven’t binged in days. I purged once this week, but it was a small one. I’m restricting but trying not to be too intense with it. I’m trying to eat normal foods but healthier versions like vegan grilled cheese and chocolate yogurt. 

Idk, it always feels impossible to be at peace with food. I would do anything to just not have to eat anymore in life.  

I feel giant lately when I look in the mirror. I’m trying to figure out what to do with that at the moment… 

I start therapy Thursday. I like my therapist thus far in our interactions. I switched therapists 7 times. I felt like a psycho in the process, but I kept having things that turned me off from the experience, and I really want it to be helpful. I need to really expose myself in the process this time, which I don’t always do well. I needed to make sure I felt safe to do that, and I didn’t stop switching until I did. 

Fuck it right?

Propaganda

How bad 

is he? 

Is he as bad 

as the others?

Am I just 

donning glasses 

the color of roses?

Falling for 

all the genuflect poses?

Am I in denial 

about the movie

and the trial?

Am I covering up,

with a worn makeup brush,

and a smile in bed,

when inside my head,

I create propaganda  

for a monster. 

Trigger warning. 

Triggerwarning. 

Triggerwarningwarningwarning. 

Xanax is your friend 

when love lets you down. 

Ana and Mia 

will always be there. 

All the real monsters 

in life

tell you 

that they 

will love you. 

Calm hatred

I just want him to leave. He’s mean, and I don’t know why. But I don’t deserve this. He doesn’t communicate except to be completely passive aggressive. He’s defensive. He insults and yells and throws tantrums. I don’t foresee him being able to manage the kids like he needs to. He just damages people.  

I yelled at him to grow up. That the reason he has no one in his life outside of this house is because of how he treats people. That everyone walks on eggshells to try to keep him happy, and it doesn’t even matter, because it doesn’t even work. He called me a fat lazy bitch. I called him a deadbeat loser piece of shit and threw up lunch. 

I’m not eating today. Might not tomorrow. 

Ten years of waiting for him to stop running his mouth and calling names. I’m tired of being the bigger person and holding my tongue. 

I’m starting to really find him so extremely unappealing. 

The narratives about a dad going to get a pack of cigarettes and never coming home would be a dream come true. 

I drafted a breakup text. I’m waiting to see if I want to send it. I’m so over how he acts… I’m tired of coming to these pages and complaining. I’m tired of trying so hard to keep everyone else happy and healthy. 

I have stopped smoking. It was because I’ve had bronchitis and nausea, so even edibles were feeling terrible. It’s been a couple days now, and I want to take a break for a couple weeks. It’s too much money. And calories in the end. Now that I’m on this side of the initial hill, I need to stay here. 

I’m trying to start therapy. It’s not going well so far. I’ve switched therapists several times, and there’s always some concern with scheduling or technology or modality or the like… And I can’t seem to find a therapist that addresses eating disorders, and I need that so badly. 

I hate this fucking week. 

Restless

My brain chemistry is all fucked up, and I don’t know why. 

I feel listless, lethargic, disgusting, ashamed. I want to fucking die. I wish I could scoop the parts of my brain out that make me feel like this with a melon baller and be done with everything. 

I’m unhappy. He’s unhappy. Little is destined to be unhappy. I don’t understand why. 

It’s all too much. 

Home alone

Morning routine of 5 medications. I’ve been sick for a week solid. I’m so tired. 

My husband is tired of me complaining. He’s been at work the past two days, so the break from him has been nice. He’s been so insanely miserable since graduation a couple weeks ago. He needs to get out of the house, and I need time alone here. He truly doesn’t get how hard I work all the time. He expects too much from me given my mental health issues. He wants me to function so much better than I’m really capable of… meanwhile I’m trying to get there and already beating myself up so terribly that his echoing voice doesn’t help. I started meds and I’m going back to therapy. I hope the therapist I elected is decent. Two strikes so far…

When my middle wakes up, we are going to cook and clean - banana bread, soup, dishes, laundry, floors, general tidying up, bathrooms. When he helps me it’s quick, and he’ll be thrilled to bake. 

We also need to talk. We have to discuss this thing with his cousin… maybe over perler beads and then we can watch a movie. 

Everything with my kids is so complicated lately. I’m trying to keep some patience, but it’s hard. Being sick is not helping. The more calm I try to be, the more things go wrong.

Xanax feels so good. 

Rejected

I’m having a really hard time believing this will ever get better. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of feeling like a failure. I’m tired of never being seen or heard by anyone. I’m tired of broken promises. 

I’m so fucking tired.

I really wish I could just die.

My children are not what I wanted in life - it wasn’t supposed to be like this. They weren’t supposed to be stepkids with issues and an autistic kid. It was supposed to be a remake of what my parents tried to do, but I was going to do it right. I wanted my daughter so that I could teach her not to turn out like me. 

I wanted a family  

My husband is not what I wanted in life. I wanted a man who would baby me. I wanted a man who would take care of me and understand me and try to protect me. I wanted a man who would take every opportunity to show me he cared. 

I got none of this. 

And I look around and I see that other people that have it, and I don’t know what I did so wrong to not deserve those things. I’ve tried so hard my whole life to be a good person. To be a good girl. I have always really tried to do my best, and it was just never enough. No one ever told me I was enough. It never mattered. A’s for effort don’t exist. 

Why is it my destiny to suffer? Why can’t I ever have anyone who sees me and accepts me? 

My urge to run away from everything is growing stronger and stronger. My urge to self injure is strong as ever. Yesterday I almost did. I almost took a safety pin and ripped it under my skin. If I had the spiral notebook wire I used to use, I would be cutting myself right now with it. 

I just want to die, because there is no escape.

I want this suffering to end, and it never will. I’m in too deep. And it’s just getting deeper and deeper, and I cant back out now. It’s just going to get worse. I’ve never gotten a period of my life where I didn’t have to constantly work so hard. And it’s never enough for people. And I’m just getting older where things get harder and harder. It will never slow down. There is no light at the end of the tunnel or date I’ll get out of this prison. There is literally only suffering. 

I wish I knew what it was like to be happy. Moments may exist, but they’re always overshadowed by reality. I can try to ignore it, but it’s always just there under the surface - I hate myself.

I hate myself, because I have always been treated like people hate me. The only times in life I’m accepted are when I’m faking things. 

I really hoped my husband would be the one to change this for me, but he hasn’t.

A decade has passed, and he’s still not decided on staying with me, and I know it. Lately it’s much clearer that he’s hating me. He’s pulling away, and I can’t stop him from doing that. He wanted what I faked to be, and I can’t be her. My life has so much shit in it that she is buried. Sometimes I can spin the plates, but mostly I just drop them all the time.

Every time I look in the mirror I see my mom. I wish I didn’t look so much like her. I wish I didn’t hate my parents and I wish they would have accepted me for me. I wish they would have done more when I know they were actually capable of more. 

I’ve never felt truly loved by anyone - it always has conditions. And when I don’t follow the conditions, I get abused. And most of the time I don’t even know what the conditions are. I just know when I’m failing. 

All I wanted was to go on a date today. And he doesn’t. And that fucking hurts so deeply because I thought our distance was circumstance but it’s because he genuinely doesn’t like me. 

I don’t fit in. I never will. I don’t think anyone will ever love me the way other people are loved. 

Fatty fatty fat fat

Dumb shit keeps happening.

The past two weeks have been a nightmare, and I didn’t realize it all until I was texting it all to Meg. 

I need a break. 

My husband is so defensive I have to treat him with kid gloves, and I no longer have the patience for it. He knows I’m right, and it kills him. He makes me so angry, and the time I’m away from him is so relaxing. I wish he would leave sometimes. Often lately. I don’t think it would hurt me that much as this point. I really feel like I could take it or leave it. O

I wonder when he stopped liking me. 

He threw in my face what I ate last night. I warned him and he kept talking. I didn’t eat today. I didn’t get to close that. When you have an eating disorder this is what happens. He knows I do. He said things anyway. 

I need a new boyfriend. 

My boys

I love my middle child. He and I are a team lately. He’s always viewed me with such admiration (of which I am not deserving) and I want to fix this suffering for him. I feel like we have worked so hard and been so patient and gracious and diligent and wise in this situation, and now I’m watching a miracle occur. 

Regardless of any day that follows, we won the war. Every sandwich and football game and pair of shoes created this moment. 

I have no regrets. And I pray for the wisdom to know what to do next. 

I have never been so proud of my boys. 

Hating me.

I’m literally insane. I have mental illness that threatens to ruin my life. I want to fucking kill myself. My husband deserves better than me. In a lot of ways. 

I don’t want them here. 

Hate hate hate hate hate

I can’t fucking sleep. My brain won’t shut off. I’ve been feeling so manic with all of the things going on at my home since Thursday. I feel like a breakdown is just around the corner, and I’m not sure what that will look like. 

I feel like I’m cracking up. 

Yesterday I kept losing my train of thought. I’m distracted and anxious. I’m flaky and clumsy and can’t function like I need to. There is too much to do and there are too many people who need things from me right now. I don’t know what are the best decisions to make to help myself. 

I can’t fucking stand it when I don’t know what’s going to happen. When I care too much. When I get my hopes up. When I have to be neutral. When I start planning things and then have to slam on the brakes. 

So I try not to plan. I’m not managing that well.  

I just have to remember that other people are not my responsibility. The kids are not my kids. I have one child that I have to take care of and he needs more from me right now. 

Keeping myself in check every moment is exhausting right now. Not getting to clock out is draining me. Worrying about everyone’s fate is terrible. 

I fully anticipate that today is going to suck ass. And I know I should not do that but I can’t help it. I literally have slept 3 hours and my alarm is going to go off in 1.5 hours. Fuck meeeee. 

Fucked neck and mood

The binging and purging of the last several days is over. Today I’m trying to eat “normally,” (whatever that means) and tomorrow I am back to restricting. I tried to restrict today but the number of pills I had to take this morning (11 pills so far today) necessitate food in my stomach if I want the effects of all of them. And I do. Hoping that by tomorrow I will feel physically better so that I can go back to properly restricting. 

I wanted to call out of work today. So badly. But I fucking need the money (nightmares about bank account balance status over here) and I didn’t know what to do about the husbands reaction if I did. 

So I just adjusted my work day to be easier for myself and plowed ahead. Lately it’s just about survival. I feel like I can do it pretty well now even when I’m not at full capacity. So being somewhat sedated is helpful and permissible. 

This morning I showered in emotional agony thinking about what would create the least suffering today. 

“What would you do if you were single?” 

“Call out.” 

“What would you do if your husband could choose?” 

“Work all day.”

“What’s in the middle?”

“Appearing like I’m working all day, but don’t…?” 

So I figured out a way to accomplish that. 

Right now I’m resting. This day has been bearable. 

It’s tragic to me that I have to walk on eggshells with him. I don’t necessarily have to, but it’s just so much easier that that’s the path I often take - least resistance. 

Huh, I don’t think I realized really what that meant before now. 

Anyway nap time. Think thin. 

Escape

Forgot to take my birth control for several days. I don’t know if it’s contributing to the current bullshit I feel, but I think it might be. 

I feel so drained. Suicidal. Exhausted. So so tired. Tired for years now. 

I want to close my eyes and sleep for days. A week solid. I don’t know if I’ll ever catch up on sleep. I don’t even know how I would achieve that. 

I pulled my neck. This always happens when I don’t get enough rest.

I wish I could just sleep and dream. The dreams would start terrible, but they would get better in a few days of enough rest.

I remember this from the worst depressive episodes - once you’re not tired anymore and your subconscious cleans itself up, you get nicer dreams. When you force yourself to sleep because sleeping is better than being awake, your mind gives you some pleasant ones. 

I’m having escape fantasies. I just wish I could sleep. 

And then, The Ditty: “A binge and a purge, and alls right with the world.”

It is still true after all these years. When it’s good, it’s so good. I’ll never understand people that have a fear of vomiting. They don’t know what they’re missing out on.

Uncomfortable

The self-hatred today is fierce. Binge, purge, eat shit. I try on 5 bras before I can get out of the house - feeling suffocated by every one. I finally manage with invisible socks to get there. 

Then I see her. She has got to be seriously uncomfortable. All the time. No matter where she is or what she’s doing. 

I breathe, but it’s labored. 

Not as labored as hers.

I don’t know what to do with myself when I just don’t have the cognitive capacity to do things. I can’t decide what to do, what to eat, what to think about, what to let myself get into.

Idk if it was the cough medicine or nah. Can’t figure that out for a few days now. 

Fuck everything. 

Jumble

Last night I overdid it. My body was kind. Today I did well until 3pm. Then a binge and purge happened. 

I feel good right now. I’ve been feeling good lately. My body feels stronger and not so weighed down. I think I’ve built more muscle over the past couple weeks being more active also. 

I need to be thin. I was thinking of the past driving around and wearing a bikini in the summer in the sun. I want that again. My age doesn’t matter. I don’t know how to dress like I should. I just need to be thin. I hate myself right now. 

I go to the park and compare. I’m not the worst. There’s cellulite worse than mine. Hair worse than mine. More rolls. Worse clothing. Butterfaces. Wonder how they criticize me in their heads. I know that the women here are not representative of the people I want to be around. I want to be a beautiful person. 

I want to be thin. 

Fuck you body

Today was a rough day. 

My body is fighting me. It has been nauseous from hunger the past two days. 

It’s survivable. 

I wait as long as I can to feed myself and I’m very selective. This afternoon my coffee wasn’t sitting well and my blood sugar was low. 

Solution = throw up. 

Acid gone, nausea lessens. I eat something small. Next wave, I have an edible. It makes me too relaxed for work.

I won’t do that again. Work is supreme over all. 

But I feel capable of being able to fuel myself just enough to get through my responsibilities and then collapse. I just need my body to realign. I know it will. It will shrink a bit and recognize that it can’t bully me into feeding it more than I want to. 

Today’s eats:

B: coffee

L: Chex mix - 220 cals 

D: chicken and broccoli - 300 calsish

Livable. 

I’m hungry now but I like to go to bed this way. I remember when I was my thinnest I would cup my hip bones in my hands and fall asleep like that. 

I miss it.

I don’t even care what my body looks like as much as I do the way it feels. I just want to feel good in it again. And the only way that happens is when it feels a little bad. 

Sleep now. Elliptical 6am. Think thin. 

Pushing past the limit

I don’t know why I pretend like sometimes I can step away from my eating disorder. I don’t think fighting it even works. I’m so disordered, and I don’t even care. I think everyone is like this. So I want to just allow myself the shit.

If there is misery with Ana and Mia, and misery without them, then I just have to choose what misery I can live with. And a fat body is not a life I can live.

I don’t want to be my mom. It’s always this, isn’t it?

I recognize being thin will not solve it all. I might still end up like her. I think her life is terrible, and I’m horrified that it will be mine one day - to just feel unhappy constantly. I would hate to never feel happy like she never does. 

And being fat is one of the few unhappys in my life that I can do something about.

I’m trying not to eat. 

Not the “trying not to eat bad stuff,” or “trying to only eat a certain number or calories,” bullshit. I’m just trying NOT to eat. When hunger arises, I check in with when the last time I ate was and when the next time I’m expected to publicly eat and what that will be to make a determination if I have the permission to eat or not. 

Todays eats:

B: coffee

L: 1 slice cheese pizza, brownie

D: Xanax 

When hungry, just drink water, take caffeine, smoke or eat an edible or pop a xan all day long… then be careful with that night time munchies. 

Last night munchies got me. I was too hungry, and when I smoked, I got too relaxed. I think no weed past 9 needs to be a thing. Like last time I can smoke in the evening is before baby bath.

Rules (don’t we live for them?):

-Wake your ass up at 6.

-Take your meds and a green tea pill.

-Work the fuck out. 

-Shower.

-Brew coffee. 

-Go to work. 

-Slowly sip coffee for several hours. 

-Drink alotsa water. 

-Lunch: 1-200 calories and as much neg cal foods as possible. 

-More caffeine if needed until 2pm. 

-Get off work. 

-Smoke. 

-Cook & eat a meal that’s 2-300 calories. 

-Smoke, edible, smoke, smoke.

-Stop smoking 8:30pm

-Theraflu or w/e to fall asleep. 

-Asleep by 10:30. 

I can’t waste my life hiding and eating in secret anymore. 

I need to get some theraflu. Tomorrow I am going to exercise ffs. By 6:30am my ass needs to be on the elliptical. 

Think thin. 

Introspection sucks

Hit in the brain with… idk.

Two things:

I never had nurture in my life, and made choices that will lead to likely never having it. 

I rejected it in the past when I experienced it, because I felt I was not deserving.

Expansion on the themes:

I don’t get nurture in my life. 

Fucking. At all. 

No one babies me. No one has for a very long time. I am now the babier, and I don’t really like it. It actually makes me quite unhappy. I do find value in doing it for all my boys, but it’s mostly pretty thankless and definitely sacrificing in nature. Not only am I the babier, who never gets babied, but I also don’t get a lot of gratitude 

As discussed previously. Let’s not rehash it.

Moving on with this theme. 

I always thought you were supposed to have someone in your life who babies you for your whole life. But maybe that’s not true. Or maybe I just never will because of the events of my life and choices that I made. I had options to get babying from 3 sources in life- boys, parents, and others. 

Expansion on this…

I used to have my parents. I used to be able to - every once in a while - ask for nurturing, and get it, if I pleased them. Now, I don’t have that option. I don’t miss the experience specifically from them. It just used to give me hope when they did it that one day, someone out there would do it better. Do it right. 

But no one ever did. 

Every relationship I have ever had involved me taking care of the other person more. It was always me who was leaned on. 

The first man I married was nurturing in the same way as my parents - only when you kept him happy. 

BUT. 

He was good when I shit-tested him. And boy did I ever. I feel bad for him that he had to deal with it for 4 years at its worse, and I wonder if he really contributed to my terrible sense of self as much as I have insisted in the past that he did, or if it was just me all along. I wish I could watch footage of the past like a movie. I know my memory is not reliable by many accounts. I wish I could know the objective truth. 

Anyway. He knew enough to recognize in those moments of my deepest insecurity tantrums that all he had to do was say, “you’re beautiful,” and it would erase the issue. 

Disgustingly enough. 

All I ever want even now is to be told that. I’m old and not beautiful anymore, and I want my partner to treat me like he did when I was 22. Maybe that’s a completely unrealistic expectation. Maybe all men at some point stop babying their wives. 

The “you’re beautiful,” becomes, “shut up, please, you know you’re beautiful,” and then just, “shut up.” 

So I don’t know what’s really realistic, but I do know that I chose an un-nurturing man to marry. When I tantrum, he explodes. 

I stopped trying long ago to get him to react with babying. I even tried telling him flat out what to say and do, but it never stuck. It’s been 10 years, and the two recent tests just had the same exact outcome as all the ones from the younger days. He just doesn’t get it. 

But now, even when I need just basic empathy, it’s not available. It’s not his fault. He was viciously abused. He was never taught to be empathetic - just to defend himself. And he can’t stop. He can’t stop defending himself, even when there is no attack and no enemy. His defenses rise to the heavens at a moments notice. I know he tries. But I also know him increasing his empathy is my goal for him, and not necessarily his goal for him. And I can’t force it. I love him and chose to be with him knowing this limitation - that was my choice.

And babies. I don’t get it from them. The step kids aren’t mine. It’s not really comfortable or appropriate for me to get any kind of nurturing (not babying - just affection and attention) from them. 

And my own little one just isn’t that, and may never really be it. He gives me small moments that keep me going enough to mommy him, but that’s about it. I enter and leave the experiences with my tank no more or less full - breaking even on the daily. 

Second thought:

When I experienced true nurturing from boys in the past, it would always strike me as a little… annoying. It made me look down on them. I thought they were pathetic when they were nice. It actually made me feel extremely uncomfortable. 

I think this is because I never had it before from anyone healthy. I always experienced it from people whom I had to prove my worth to to get it. I had to earn it in some way, and it was used to guilt me or manipulate me. 

“But look how much I love you - I baby you when you act right.” 

But then I could never continue to please them, so I felt it unachievable, and therefore strayed away from it. Why would I accept nurturing when nurturing meant I had to keep someone happy? When someone’s a fuck head then I know where we stand. 

Is that better or worse? 

Is it better to be flat out told how someone is feeling and handle the gut punch in one foul swoop, or to feel it gradually - ache creeping in like fog and deflating you slowly like a balloon with a pinhole in it. Sometimes, if you’re still enough, it won’t even let out some of the air for a second, and you can pretend you still have a perfectly good balloon. 

I don’t know what is better, but I know what I chose. 

When all else fails you, starve

The past two days I have barely eaten. It feels good. Its not from a good place. It’s from too much time on my hands and too many things attacking my self esteem on the daily. It’s from feeling like I have absolutely no fucking control over anything in my life, and I’m horrified of the future. 

So we at least make sure when we get there, we are thin. 

Xanax, edible, smoke a flowers, cough syrup, and feel just fucked up enough to finally fucking relax. I earned it. I’m going to start rewarding myself for not eating just like this. And my body will shrink away nice and steadily. And maybe I’ll figure out soon how to be selfish enough to demand workouts. I have a thought about it to look into this week.

I need to make it this week. I need to fix this shit. 

Fuck you, Cally, you piece of shit. I’m glad your stomach has hunger pangs right now. You deserve it. Now go find some eye candy to ogle, you closeted lesbian piece of trash. You’re obsessed with things you’ll never achieve, because you’re not special. Bogs was wrong. Even your own parents don’t fucking like you. And when you stop fooling them, they all leave. So you need to look the part. Then fooling them is a lot easier. 

I want to be the one whose hands fidget and heart races when there is food involved. 

I fought off sushi, burgers, sandwiches, brownies, you name it. I didn’t even have bites of things. Idk I’m over this piece of shit body. 

Kill her. 

Just wish happy was a thing

I said the things to my kids. It’s all in a good place. My husband is being terrible… he was gone for a week and came home and has been sick for the past week. He has been needy and grouchy and depressed and angsty and awful to live with, and I’ve been working my ass off taking care of a toddler and the big kids and him.

I called him selfish tonight. 

I meant it.

I said, “the past two weeks have made me realize how selfish you really are,” and he had no response except to reiterate that once he graduates nothing is keeping us together. I told him he can feel free to plan his life to exit then. Because I’m over it. I’m really going to start saving money for myself. I need to look at exiting. 

This thought about moving abroad is confusing to me and, I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not. If our relationship had been different the last 9 months, I would feel differently. I worry about my kids. I worry about feeling stuck there like I did with the ex when I moved. I worry about the language barrier and the disconnect that will happen with work. 

I guess the worst case scenario is I take baby and run. I don’t have to stay there. A plane ride will not stop me. It is completely illogical to go. But I never cared about logic. Maybe if I did I would be a little better off. 

My self esteem has been in the toilet the past week. The week prior I tried to enjoy drinking and being home alone. It was not good. I was depressed af. I got a lot done but struggled. The combo was not good for my brain. This week I’m in hustle mode. I don’t get any other option. I truly also think I’m bipolar. 

My eating disorder is scratching to get out. Clawing. I didn’t eat today except a banana and a coffee. Lunch was split off, dinner involved insults, so I used that to re cut. I turned on my attitude intentionally. I wanted to eat and was looking forward to it, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. 

I’m so fat. 

I have a double chin and cellulite and a flabby belly and huge jiggly arms and all the fat stores everywhere that make me look like my gross mom who I don’t like. I need to get it under control. Idk how that’s supposed to happen atm, but I gotta get there. My body and mind need it. I need to lose weight. I think baby might be at an age where I can get away with doing it in the mornings.

Monday we will try.  

My brain is doing that thing it did with the ex… where it’s like “we’re not happy, so it’s time to try things to make us happy.” It’s always substances, weight loss, boys, and making some huge life change… I know substances is out. Boys literally never help. Going to try weight loss. Still on the fence about the life change. 

I’m not really sure what factors are making me unhappy. Last time it was the man I was married to. It might be this time too… Previously, the big change of grad school was a great choice. The move to AN was not. Move to Ot good. Move to the village no. Baby was about 50/50 in all honestly - special needs was not on the menu. 

So who knows? Happiness comes out of trial and error. 

My baby is my world. I love him. I want him to be happy, and I hope that’s possible in the world we live in. I worry about him every day because he will have to face terrible things in the world. He can’t have them at home also. And if I have to sacrifice my marriage to help my child, I will. My husband knows this. He realizes there is no other path. It has to be me. This is larger than me. I didn’t choose for it to be like this, but I will honor my role as his mother with patience and sacrifice and effort until the day I take my last breath. And my fear is that that will happen before his, and he will be alone and lost without me. That he will suffer more. I have no long term plan. I want myself and my baby to be happy. When it’s just us, we are. 

I just wish he would pick me in all of this. He acts like I’m the enemy, and all I’ve done for a decade is be supportive. I can genuinely say that with complete honesty that I have been forgiving and accepting and compassionate and generous. I have loved well and all of them. It’s thankless. I don’t think it has a purpose anymore. 

Love is not enough. 

Family shit in my brain

My vacation with baby is here. 

I don’t know why I thought I’d get to enjoy this without introspection. I didn’t think I had anything to work on. I’m supposed to be able to clean and drink and play and not fucking obsess about anything. 

But I can’t. 

Because people suck. 

And the interactions with my mom and brother and aunt and grandmother and kids this week have all felt… bad. Negative. Sad. Everyone is so mentally ill. 

And all I can do is accept it. It’s easier with some than others. With my brother, I want to fix it for him. With my parents, I want them to be accountable and remorseful. With my grandmother and aunt, I want them to externally get help and see how their behavior has been problematic. With my kids, I want to adjust patterns I’m seeing and am powerless to stop. 

And none of those things are within my control. 

You can’t make someone see something. You can’t un-break something. You can talk, but it doesn’t mean someone will listen. 

Those are the 3 tenets I promote. It’s harder to live them. 

My kids are not mine enough to create the impact I would have hoped for in their lives. What I envisioned is not reality. I need to realize their lives have been chaotic, and I can’t change that with hoping and encouraging.  They are going to take their own path to work it all out. They are good to fail and get hurt and be distracted. They’re going to do some of the things I did and suffer from them just as I did. And there is no other way that process can go. 

I will be speaking my piece one more time in life, and then I have to stop. One more family meeting to address things I see that are problematic, and then I will be quiet. Available but quiet. I can only say so much  before I become the enemy instead of the ally.

My parents would rather cling to pride than try to make changes. The way they have gained a sense of self and ego was not done in a healthy way, and it’s so fragile they can’t let it shift. Honoring them means letting them say things and not responding. It means being kind when I am not given kindness. I have decided to leave a door open for communication and I will do that, but I have to stop fixating when it’s the same exact dynamic. Yes, it’s incredulous. But it should be expected at this point. I need to realize exactly how mentally ill my mother is. I need to recognize that each text is from a crazy woman that needs meds and therapy and help. My dad has more trauma than anyone realizes - he’s wounded, and he’s clung to the only thing in his life that ever made him feel an ounce of happiness, not realizing that it could be even better. 

My brother feels powerless and looks to others to create any movement. He can’t help it. He wants more from me than I can give. He’s disappointed, and I know that, but I can also see that what he is hoping for is not even healthy or good for his life. His energy and efforts are very misdirected. He does too much in the wrong direction. He would benefit more from building his own life instead of being a supporting character is other peoples’. 

My aunt and grandmother have no idea how to connect with other people. They are so blind to how their behavior is a problem. They can’t see that they created the situations they are in. 

It’s hard to stop being the victim in life because when you already feel powerless, it’s how you have built a sense of ego. 

There is more to work out here, but it’s fleeting in my mind. I’m going to let it marinade and return to it. 

Fattyfattyfatfat

I feel like garbage. I'm tired of this cycle of binging and restricting, smoking and not smoking, feeling great and feeling like shit. 

I'm tired of falling asleep with a stomach crammed with food and awakening with nausea and stomach cramps feeling depressed and hating myself. I have to poop for the first 3 hours I'm awake non-stop, and ain't nobody got time for that... 

I. Fucking. Hate. Myself.

My birthday trip is this weekend, and I'm fat. And I had the chance to not be. And I blew it. 

All this over interaction with my mother??

Grief

My anxiety is through the roof. 

Why do realizations have to strike at midnight? Why do epiphanies only come out at dark? 

My life has been chaos for 12 years. 13 years. Mh whole fucking life. I just want a place to exist and have peace. I just want stability and consistency for a small shining period. And I don’t know if it will ever happen. It’s just constant transition. New challenges. Some I elect, and some the universe sends to me unannounced. I would like to be calm. I would like to rest. 

I would like to be able to sleep at night without being so stuck in the muck and mire of worry. 

I will never again get to have a mother daughter relationship. My own mother will never be a part of my life again to functionally facilitate anything of an intimate nature, and I didn’t have the daughter of my own that I always envisioned. That’s a large thought to grieve. 

I could have been selfish. I could have been selfish and had another child. I could have kept doing that until I had my girl. But I was already selfish in cutting off my existing dynamic in this regard. I don’t think you get to be selfish in both directions. I don’t think I’m cut out for a mother daughter relationship in my life. 

My heart wants to say “maybe…” but I know I can’t allow that journey. 

So depressed

Triggering shit this week that has caused this depressive episode:

Parental contact 

Issues with kiddos

Digging up ex 

Hubby is not nice

Sometimes I forget that I have actual serious depression - that I can’t do shit about it. That there doesn’t have to be a big reason to trigger a terrible episode. That sometimes it barely takes anything. 

I feel alone. That’s really it. That is what has triggered all this this week… And I have it in my head that if I going to be alone, then I want to REALLY be alone. I don’t want people in my life there just filling space. I don’t need people just to have them. I don’t want to do for others all the time without reciprocation. I want actual fulfillment in my relationships. I want to be treated well. And all I’ve done this week is replay past events and process recent events where I was treated like garbage. I guess it spiked an episode. 

So I tell clients there are technical difficulties. Please stand by. 

Sometimes I think I need a new career. Like is this really sustainable? Am I kidding myself? Am I destined to actually burn out, or once I have the ability to be more balanced, will this make more sense? 

I’m not sure what will become of things today. I don’t know if I have a single fuck left to give… I’m tired and my body hurts, and I can’t sleep, but I physically feel drained and mentally feel drained… is it worse to drag myself through work or to stay home and feel guilty? I have had a very good run of not calling out - this week that was not the case… but I think it’s been since July that I really had it bad like this. 5 months is impressive. 

And then today I wish I could fucking die. 

I would like to be alone… 

Reality versus fantasy

The weekend made me so anxious. Binging, purging, crying, paranoia.

I hate my parents and don’t want anything to do with them. I’m sad about it but mad. I’m tired. I’m discouraged. I had to integrate things into my home that they dropped off. I love the items but it’s been a reminder of the insanity. It’s an impossible scenario. 

Yesterday and today I called out of work. Bye, money... I just can’t do it. I know I’ll likely find later this was not a good idea, but I’m just too mentally drained to talk to anyone. I can’t do it every day… today I decided no. I asked husband if he would be upset. He said no. He rolled over and went back to sleep. I cleaned up a bit and put groceries away. I tended to toddler. I want to do these things more and work less. I want to be 50% housewife/mom and 50% business owner. It’s not ok with me that I can’t have that ratio… I think that’s really been the ticket all along honestly… I’m good at keeping house. I like it. I’m good at running my business and I like that. But full time both is too much and my only option at the moment. Anything stressful that comes along tips that scale and leaves me spiraling. 

I took Xanax and have been smoking. I want a nap. Sleep is a wonderful escape lately and so is fantasizing. 

Piling up

Had a meltdown this week about Oldest’s bday. I meant it all - I feel like no one appreciates me. All I can do is express that and hope it’s heard. It hurts. I’m tired. 

This week was loooong and draining. I am not on auto pilot with a lot of my clients yet, so it’s taxing. I’m sure in about a month I’ll feel used to this schedule and volume, but I’m struggling to adjust currently. 

My eating disorder is creeping up a lot lately. I have been trying very hard to let myself be more moderate. To eat more calories than I usually do, and to not limit types of food so much. It’s not easy. The narrative in my head about food is constant and anxious. “What should we have for breakfast - maybe an English muffin? Yes a 100 calorie one with egg whites and a single... That would be 145 calories. Or can I do a whole egg instead of an egg white? That’s 200 calories… I’m not sure… 200 calories is reasonable though, right? It’s already a diet bread and a diet cheese. No butter. So is it ok? Yes let’s make it ok… 200 calories is not too much… I think it’s ok…”

I’m exhausted by it. Every meal is like this. Every grocery shopping endeavor. Every thought of food is a tug of war between Ana & Mia and Recovery. 

I didn’t win today. I had a good breakfast, a binge and purge for lunch, a good dinner, a binge for dessert. 

I dug up the past, and I guess I couldn’t process it well. I’m not sure what was even upsetting to me - the thoughts of now or then. I’m glad he’s in a better place - it’s both nice and ugly to see, honestly. I just wish I knew why it hit like that, or if that was even the factor. Maybe it was because no one was home and completely due to opportunity. Maybe it was the stress of everything else. I know my binges are related to stress, but sometimes I don’t know what the stress even is. 

My stomach hurts. 

Jumbles

It’s been a week. Work is hectic. I think I took on a few too many clients, but I’m trying to ride it out rather than refer anyone. I need money, so the more I work and the more clients I have, the better this will go… I’m a couple thousand behind where I need to be. I’m getting my spending under control, but like goddamn I’m tired of the money struggles in my life. I feel completely overwhelmed with it frequently. 

The scale today was nice. I’m hungry right now. Yesterday I went to be hungry, I woke up today hungry, I didn’t eat solid food until 1pm. It had been 24 hours. I love this feeling. I love not wanting to eat. Conflict with husband makes it easier to starve. Being broke makes it easier to starve. Hating myself makes it easier to starve. 

My weight is dropping. 

Husband is the same.

I looked over my last entry, and all the same sentiments apply. I’ve expressed to him that he needs to fix this - that I can’t. I don’t think he’s grasping it. I’ve let it slide very often lately. Long gone are the days when I could run to Jenn. Or Bogs. Or Gerard… I now have to live through these moments. I have to communicate about the little human we brought into the world. I don’t have the income or vehicle to run away like I want to. So I wait. I try to protect my self esteem. I know that I could find someone else even with all my baggage. I’m good at making men fall in love with me. I know how to play the games even at this age. It would be fine to play them again. I might have drama, but that can be appealing. I could find someone to elevate my life instead of the other way around. 

“You are and always will be special to me.” 

I wonder what my life would be if I had gone to lunch that day. 

Needing clarity

Organizing myself here... Mid 2020-mid 2021 I was severely depressed. I am clearly still depressed, but not as intensely. 

What did I change? 

I lost some weight, had surgery, changed jobs, shifted friendships, cut off my parents, handled the autism diagnosis of baby, started wellbutrin, and made peace with weed and money. All of these made me feel better. All of them are still works in progress, but going well, and I feel good about them. I know I come here solely to spew poison most entries, but in reality I feel good about my life for the first time in a long time. I feel like I am doing well. I somehow feel better. 

Except for the husband. 

He is mean. miserable, critical, rude... I have thought of the ways and plans of leaving. I have explored my options. I have options. I have an idea. I don't want it to come to that, but you can only ask for someone to treat you well so many times in life.

So how long do you allow someone to be like that before you make a decision to leave them behind? Where is the hard line? Am I destined to outgrow all of my partners? Do I feel good without someone there? Can I handle being single? I have so many unanswered questions and only one wish - that he would just stop being so mean. 

I know my answer - I know I need to wait for my moment of clarity. I know it will come. It has not yet. I know what it will feel like. I know what the experience is like. I can't rush it. 

I honestly can't change anything in this - I know I am loving well and lovable and doing all the right things. But you can't fix people. No amount of love or acceptance can make someone else happy. 

The path I see is we get some distance right now, we make up, we get our money, we get a car, we pay off the lingering things, he graduates, he gets a job, we move. After that I don't know... I would like this to go like this. I know our silence right now will not equate him leaving. I know he won't take the money and run. And if he does, so be it. I will figure it out. I always do. I'm not scared of being alone. I'm not scared of hard work. I'm not scared of poverty. 

The only thing I'm scared of is someone taking away the happiness that I worked 35 years to acquire. I can't ever let that happen. 

Usual self-hatred

I'm feeling like garbage - nausea, pooping a lot, no idea how to manage it. I don't know if it's my eating or stressing or allergies. It's probably all of the above, but the choices in eating is not helping... 

I'm binging again - late night, high and in bed, gorging. It makes me hate myself. I need to stop. I don't have any fucking clue how to actually do that. I know what works for a moment, for a period temporarily, but I have no fucking CLUE how to fix this shit for real. How do I stop binging? How do I get a better relationship with food and stop with the yo-yo?

I'm just so tired. 

Every morning I open my eyes and hate me the night before. Every evening I give myself permission to be her. I'm like fucking Jekyll and Hyde, and Cally is gone. And I hate all 3 of those people. 

Timeline

I did a timeline of life events… wow. 

My life has been a shit show. 

Pretty much for the entirety of the history of this blog I have had huge shit I was dealing with, huge stressors, terrible mental health… 

When will it get better?

I compulsively work on a timeline when I need to be sleeping. I fell asleep at midnight. Baby awakened at 3am. It’s 6:30am, and I have yet to fall back asleep - sorting through my blog and photos and calendar to piece it all together. I have terrible insomnia, and I’m not sure if it’s the chicken or the egg. I’m tense. I ate too much before bed.

It’s a circus. It’s so messy and tumultuous. So much of my life has zoomed by while I was struggling to find balance. I grew up late and have struggled to catch up for so many years, making dumb mistakes and hurting myself. I’ve been so disorganized and sad for so long.

I’m not sure what this insight is yet… my brain actually needs sleep, even though it’s trying to act like it doesn’t… putting a pin in this…

Poetry?

Self sabotage. 

“How is your eating?” 

It’s not for necessity; 

it’s for morbid curiosity. 

How do I measure up? 

My heart is on my sleeve 

and it’s bleeding. 

It’s needing.

I try to fill the void. 

There are too many. 

Each hole of grief a specific shape. 

Mother, daughter, son, husband. 

Themes throughout history

of hurt and sadness. 

Push into the bite. 

Bite into the pain. 

Fill your mouth with trivial things. 

Make your insides twist inside out.

Blowing smog and popping poison. 

Compulsively craving connection. 

Terrified by the thoughts of others. 

All I ever really wanted

was just to fit in. 

Happy fucking New Year to any lonely bitches that read this garbage. Keep fighting.