Insomnia

I forgot what it felt like, but here it is. I did not eat all day today until dinner. I felt good. 

I felt great, actually. 

Then, when I arrived home, I did not smoke and binge like usual. I ate some chicken and broccoli and a bit of potatoes, and I called it a night. 

But, the night does not want to cooperate. The sleeplessness, the restlessness, the complete lack of being able to turn off my brain returns.

I've spent a lot of my life suffering from insomnia. Years, actually. Lying in bed not able to stop thinking about stupid shit that doesn't matter at fucking all. 

Tonight, I return. I knew I would when I decided to stop smoking for a bit here. But, alas. Se la vie. I have got to stop spending too much money smoking too much pot and eating too much crap. 

Sleep will return eventually, and maybe I'll lose some weight and get some shit done in the meantime. 

Here's hoping sleep comes soon.

Goodnight, pretties. 

Bulimia

I'm bulimic.

I am taking a diagnosis class, and the other day instead of reading about schizophrenia, like I was supposed to be doing, I read about bulimia. I don't know why I started there, but I felt drawn...

I officially, medically am bulimic, and when I think about my life, I have been off and on (more often on) for about the past 5 years.

I was kind of surprised by this, but then also not surprised... When I kind of mentioned it to the boyfriend, a totally cofusing conversation followed.

"Years?" he asked.

"Yeah, for years of my life I was bulimic." I said, while in my head, I thought "am bulimic."

"Well, I'm glad you aren't anymore. Geez. I don't think I could be with you."

"Why not?" I asked totally shocked by this response. "What would it change?"

"I don't know; you wouldn't be you. I wouldn't even know you; you'd be different."

I let it go at that, but I realized that he would be crazy pissed off if he knew. I've hidden it so well from him, and tried not to engage in the behavior when I could possibly be caught by him, and I guess it has worked well. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that he would kind of have an inkling that this was the current reality about me. I thought when I mentioned it that he would possibly even question me, but I guess literally no one in my life will ever know about what I do except the world of blogger.

I think he sounds insensitive when you read this, but I get what he was saying... I think more what he meant is that if I were crazy skinny and blatantly throwing up every meal he cooked me, he wouldn't like it, but it just shows how ignorant people really are about the disease. He doesn't know the realities of eating disorders, and I have no question that if I came to him and confessed, he would be sympathetic and understanding and legitimately try to help me.

One day, I'll probably tell him when I'm far removed, but right now I just don't want to... I'm somehow comfortable with my disease. And that's almost scary... But... For now, Mia is my own. She comforts me and is familiar, and honestly has been with me a lot longer than him.

Plus, lately, my old methods have been working well, and my body is FINALLY letting go of some of this weight. I'm at a number I haven't seen in a while, and I feel sooo much better about my body at the moment. It was just enough of a push to get me losing again.

So what is the resolution to this? How do I feel? I don't know... I guess it just is what it is and hopefully one day I will figure out how to leave Mia behind. But honestly, I'm not in any kind of hurry.

Yvonne

I just wrote this for class. I also cried about my lost childhood best friend almost all day yesterday. She deserved so much more, and I wish she could have gotten it out of life. Rest in peace, beautiful.

Growing up, my childhood best friend was Yvonne. She was half white and half black, and in the small, rural town where we grew up, she was not accepted by anyone. Her parents were divorced, and she was raised by her white mother and grandmother. I remember being at her house once, watching TV and eating dinner on an average Friday night, and her own grandmother ranting about how disgraceful it was that Yvonne’s mother had married a black man and had her. It was stated blatantly in front of her and directed toward her, and this was commonplace in her family. Yvonne’s grandmother always acted as if she wished Yvonne were white, and Yvonne’s mother never defended her choice or her child (possibly out of fear that she would stop getting assistance from her grandmother, or possibly because she agreed - I never could tell). In their family, Yvonne’s older sister who WAS white received a disgraceful amount of favoritism, but no one ever defended Yvonne, and they all spoke and acted as if they agreed she would be a better person if she were white - as if she was the one who made the choice to be born a mixed baby.

In elementary school, she was not accepted by our classmates. She was the only black girl in our entire small private Christian school, and though she “acted white,” she never fit in. I don’t think a lot of the kids in our school were knowingly racist - they just came from a small rural lifestyle where anyone who acted or looked different in any way was ignored and avoided, and she happened to fall into this category. In middle school, her mom enrolled her in public school, and I remember hoping, for her sake, that she would meet some mixed or black kids to be friends with. However, this tragically did not happen. She became a target because her skin was so much lighter than the other black girls, and she was extremely intelligent and always carried herself with dignity. I remember her calling me one day after school crying, which she never did. A small group of black girls had cornered her in the bathroom at school, knocked her backpack out of her hands, got in her face, and screamed at her, accusing her of thinking that she was “better than them.” When I asked her how she reacted, she said she screamed right back and told them she would kill them if they got in her face again. I was startled by her response until she explained, “If I act scared of them, they will harass me forever. They need to be scared of me. It’s the only way I can defend myself.” I remember constantly being so distraught that my amazing friend could be treated by every group of people as if she didn't belong. She was beautiful and intelligent and funny and bubbly, but everyone rejected her, even in her own family. If what you are is black and white but no white people accept you and no black people accept you, then who are you supposed to relate to? Who are you supposed to be?

Once we started high school, we lost touch, but this week’s readings and thinking about my childhood friend prompted me to look her up online. I discovered that her life turned out so much worse than I had hoped. She spent quite a lot of time in and out of jail from 2009-2012. She was arrested for a DUI, various probation violations, and eventually assisting in an armed robbery. She was sentenced to 55 months in jail, and a few months after this, she caught some kind of flu and was quarantined along with over 100 other female inmates. She, however, was the only one who died from the mysterious illness, while in jail, at age 26. I was heartbroken when I learned all of this, and it made me question if she had lived in a different town, went to a different school, or had different color skin, would she have had a better life? If her grandmother had not told her she did not accept her, if her mother had supported her in any way, if the black girls at her school had let her into their inner circle, would she instead have a husband and children and be alive and well? It’s something that will honestly sadden me for the rest of my life. However, I am choosing to also view her and her life as an inspiration - I hope that my counseling and general attitude toward anyone I ever meet in the future, honors her memory and the lessons she taught me.

Not stable

I try to be stable, but I'm not.

I'm SO tired of being fat; I can see myself adopting Ana & Mia patterns again... I've lost about 5 pounds, and I just want to get rid of some of my body.

 I feel suffocated and ugly.

It's not easy feeling this way at the moment; I'm not balanced right now. I catch myself fighting the two extremes, and when I read about Bulimia in my DSM manual, I wonder if it will ever be possible for me to not be diagnosed as such... I have been for SO many years.

I guess we'll have to see how it plays out... But to be honest, losing the weight is more of a focus than how healthily I do it, at the moment.

I think my mind will always be dark. I think I will always be a little fucked-up in the head.

Sometimes, I get all gun-ho about "mental health" and "self-love," and I want to be better. Then other times, I don't think I CAN be better. I think this might just be who I am, and I think it's a little messed up... Are some people just a little messed up no matter what?

We're supposed to be the best kind of a person, as a therapist. That's what this career and major ARE. You're supposed to be more understanding, empathetic, stable, and healthier than the average person.  I'm supposed to have answers and guidance. I'm supposed to help someone else to be better. So, in theory, I have to be better myself.

But what if I CAN'T be more of those things than others? What if I can't be the "most" mentally healthy of my race?

Will I still be able to help? Because, trust me, I'm trying to get my shit together... But I don't know if I really can.

How am I?

I don't know how I'm doing lately...

It's weird when I think about it, but that's exactly how I feel. I guess I'm not sure how I feel.

I think it's because I feel like SO many things are going good right now, and I feel like it's bound to get fucked up somehow...

I'll gain weight or be unable to lose it, the boy will lose attraction or stop loving me, I'll start failing in school, I'll get very far behind financially, or whatever other awful scenario one could possibly imagine...

But, when I look at the past year, these scenarios don't even seem likely.

It seems more likely that I'll do well in school, manage my finances smartly, and that the boy and I will fall in love deeper every freaking moment and get married and have a baby.

The body situation... That seems like it's going to be more difficult to change, but damn I really want to and the right way...

I am scared to get too comfortable, but the comfort feels so good right now.

Final final

I had my last final of my first semester of graduate school today.

It was surreal and amazing.

I flew through the exam - it felt so easy. I had a rush as I knew all the answers, scribbling in the bubbles and flipping each page. *whoosh, scribble, scribble, scribble, whoosh*

I double-checked it, and marched up to the front and turned it in. I turned to leave, and my TA was smiling at me and waving goodbye. I smiled and waved and left the classroom. I realized I was the first one out, and it felt like I took the exam so quickly... I glanced at my phone.

6:17 pm.

What!? SEVENTEEN minutes!? I even double checked my answers, and it felt so effortless!

I felt like a kid at fucking Disney World as I walked back to my car and left campus. My first semester is over, and I worked SO hard, and it was worth it. 

It's amazing to me that I am capable of this. I am accomplishing things. I am learning things. I am making an impression. I am getting good grades. I am liking school. Again. Like I haven't since I was 17. I feel smart again. Like I have something to say, and people want to listen. My professor said it was a pleasure to have me in her class.

I am liking my life. A lot. I'm not stressed, even when things get rough. I love my boyfriend and my wonderful stepkids, and I have a great job where people love me and support and appreciate me. And I'm kicking ass in fucking graduate school.

I've let go of SO many issues I've had this semester. I've worked on my mental health. A LOT. I've written and analyzed and had so many moments where I had life-altering realizations about SO many things. It's crazy to me all the moments I've had where I've left class completely emotionally drained but with peace - knowing I just had a breakthrough. And they're not superficial like I've had in the past. They've stuck, and I'm not faking it for once.

I don't feel crazy anymore.

I feel mentally healthier than I have in a very long time, and I've worked very hard to get here. I don't feel like I need to smoke anymore (though, let's face it - I still like it, so I'm still smoking. Ha ha!) I've cut out all the backup boys and attention seeking. I actually sleep at night. Who would have thought any of those were possible??

It's so rewarding, and I don't want to lose it! I want to feel physically healthier now. That's my next step, and I know I'll get there... One thing at a time, I suppose. I'm not in any rush.

I just want to get to a place where I'm losing weight and taking care of myself because I love my body and not because I hate it... I've never felt that before, and I want it.

Life is messy

I feel weird today.

The boyfriend and I had the spatty little moment I knew was coming... Glad it's over, so that the elephant in the room is gone, but still...

I took off spring break to focus on school, and he copped an attitude about me not going to work and about my scheduling lately, though we both know my finances are not the ones in question this month and he shouldn't even be saying anything... He's partly right, and I know where he's coming from, but neither one of us are used to me being the one who needs a kick in the right direction, and he gets a little on the attack side. And when I already feel insecure about what's going on with me, it doesn't go over well. He could never be as hard on me as I am on myself, so anything he says about my behavior just makes me want to scream and vomit simultaneously.

But I get what he was saying and the jealousy involved as well. I'll talk to him tonight, and we'll get everything straight, but I was spitting venom this morning...

My goal to lose weight this week was a disaster. I really don't want to discuss it, but instead of fulfilling my goals, I got depressed and had countless anxiety attacks and binged for two days and I got extremely backed up and had to take a laxi last night and today I feel like garbage.

I feel like garbage in a lot of respects... I have a lot of responsibility right now, and I;m not doing a great job at balancing everything at the moment. I know it will work out, but it's taking longer than I wanted, and it's frustrating.

I need to get serious about losing weight and about money and school and stop letting my depression hold me back. I need to stay on top of my goals and finances, or I won't survive this. I need to start rewarding myself for things instead of using comfort to cope when I just feel nasty - which is like all the time.

And I need a day with my boyfriend the kids. All 4 of us and no life distractions!!!