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.