Dear Diary, My teenage angst bullshit has a body count...
TW for ED/SU...I don't censor my personal writing... although I did edit one part.
October 4th, 2013.
I feel like I'm drowning. Like I've been pulled back out to sea and I suddenly forgot how to swim. How have I managed to find myself back at this place? I was doing so well...My moods are the most stable they have been in my entire life. Yet I feel like I am at a fucked up carnival playing some sort of whack-a-mole game. Bi-polar is under control for the most part, but my bulimia/ food "issues" and cutting, memories and PTSD are out of control. I don't even know where to start. I feel like I just get a handle on one thing and then something else pops up. I hate this time of year- holidays- 'tis the season to go crazy. I can't get his eyes out of my head. I am worried about my upcoming midterms as stress is a major trigger for these memories it seems. I can't fail another class. I just can't. I've been as honest as I could be with my profs, but I have this underlying feeling that somehow it won't matter-I don't matter- it's not good enough-I'm not good enough-never good enough. I've lost 15 lbs. My mother keeps commenting on it by saying she needs to do what I am doing. ***I'll leave out the part explaining my purging process as I know how triggering it is for some members*** repeat. I don't see this weight loss, but mother is elated. I hate when she asks me if I have eaten-NO! I haven't I can't! !) my meds (that you do not approve of and that are keeping me alive) take away my appetite and 2) all food is poison and just not appetizing to me lately. Plus if I do manage to chose anything down chances are it is not going to stay down...so...what is the point!? I just feel so defeated...
November 19th, 2013.
Taken from my twitter from the weekend...
*Nothing I do is ever good enough I just want to know when this will change-because if it won't what's the fucking point?
*I mean really. Why try to recover? Why am I poisoning my body with numerous medications with which god only knows the long term effects.
*Why waste money on food that I know I'm just going to end up purging and then feel guilty for doing so when so many are starving in the world.
*Why do I pay thousands of dollars to go to university when chances are high that I'm going to kill myself before I even make it into the workplace?
*Why do I have friends? I'm a pathetic excuse for a friend right now-I'm so wrapped up in this shit that I can't properly be there for them.
*I get angry when they ask me how I am-like do you really fucking care? Obviously not.
*When you ask me how I am and I say "oh I'm ok" or "fine" or "the same"...this should clue you in that I'm not fucking O.K. I'm not.
* I feel like I give out so many clues that it should be so blatantly obvious to those around me that my world is crashing in around me.
* I feel like I'm standing in front of everyone holding a microphone screaming at them, but my screams are falling upon deaf ears.
*Perhaps this is my karma in a sense...I think of myself as a shitty person. I'm no mother Theresa. Maybe the things that have happened to me is the universes way of saying "hey, you're a fucking shitty person...and this is exactly what you deserve" I could have stopped some things...
*When my cousin first started abusing me, when my mom didn't believe me, I could have told someone else...I could have tried to get away...I could have made a bigger deal/fuss about going over there and making sure I wasn't being left alone with him. I could have tried harder to scream...
*When I was gang raped I shouldn't even have put myself in that situation. I shouldn't have been at that party. I shouldn't have been drinking. I shouldn't have left the people I went with. I shouldn't have left myself be that vulnerable. I might as well have tattooed on my forehead "easy target".
*Same with the last rape...I shouldn't have flirted. I shouldn't have drank so much. I should have seen the warning signs that this guy was no good! What the fucking fuck was I thinking!?!? I should have fought harder. I should have screamed louder...
*Like the psychiatrist said the night I got my arm stitched up "why do you keep letting this happen to you?...It's all my fault. Anybody who tells me otherwise is just trying not to hurt my feelings. I don't blame anyone else who has been through this. No one deserves to have this happen.
*I am different. I deserve it. I am a bad person. so many thoughts....so many thoughts....
*The anger and the hurt and the sad consume my nights. And the what ifs and whys consume my thoughts. I just wish I could disappear.
*Nobody would ever miss me-I am nobody
*I wish I could go back in time and warn him-don't get close to me. I'm no good. You're only going to get hurt. I'm not going to last long.
Finally got the courage to call the trauma counsellor. My appointment is not until January 28th though. I feel like this is a long time to wait-will I still feel as ready then? I also have to go through the intake process again, which is annoying-why can't they just look back at my previous intake since nothing has changed...like no recent assaults. The counsellor I saw has been promoted to program co-ordinate and is no longer a counsellor so that is highly disappointing as I had felt a connection with her- and I find It hard to connect with counsellors- especially given the subject. My professor recommended a service to me, but their number is no longer in service which was also disappointing, but it was super nice of her to recommend a program to me.
Lately I find my mind wandering to how easy it would be to just disappear. How I would not be missed. My friend thinks inpatient treatment would be the best option for me (I personally think she says this because it helped her)but you can't run away in inpatient-I also do not feel as though I am "sick" enough/qualify for inpatient treatment programs. Unlike my friend, my parents do not believe that I am bipolar, they are also against me being on psych. medications. I can't imagine them supporting me being hospitalized/going into a treatment program. They would freak out if they even knew I saw a personal counsellor on a regular basis. I'm not 100% sure what the financial aspect is around inpatient- my parents would not pay. I also would not be able to take week/months off of school to pursue treatment.
Back to disappearing. A conversation with *A* when I was very upset and drunk after a very rough night-->
"It would be so easy and as of late I doubt 99.9% of the people who know me would give 2 shits...leave your phone, pack a bag...and just go. Disable social media, e-mail, etc...start a new life...or go somewhere far away where no one knows you to end it. Either way...it wouldn't be hard"
"I feel like I'm 2 different people. The person I am around my friends and people and then the person I am when I'm alone. I feel like I'm lying to everyone ad can never be 100% honest because I don't want to hurt anyone. I try to let people in, I do. But I know I'm a shit friend even saying half the shit I do...so I never say everything. I feel all alone all the time and I know people try to understand, but they don't and the only person who ever did killed himself. And lately that option is becoming increasingly more enticing. More so than usual. I'm not going to. But then it makes me feel like-what's the point in going to school or doing anything if I'm not going to be around. Why not push my friends away to lessen the blow....Just a lot of thoughts."
Then it comes back to the day I reported the last rape and the details of that day. More why's and anger.
*Why was my friend/room mate and her friend mad at me for only having to pay $15 for the morning after pill - which made me very sick - at the school clinic, when they had to pay $40 at the local pharmacy.
--> I had to be poked and prodded and have my first (and only!) physical ever, and stitches for that morning after pill...
*Why was a male officer sent to the school?
*Why did the counsellor report it even though I didn't want her to and I wasn't a minor, I even specified that I didn't know his name and didn't want to press charges...
November 22nd, 2013
Taking a homework break to write this down..
One of my favourite shows, Private Practice, described rape (I find myself being able to write this word more and more--not sure about actually saying it) perfectly after one of the main characters, Dr. Charlotte King, is raped in the episode "Did You Hear What Happened to Charlotte King?"
"You ever been violated? Anybody rape you lately? Let me tell you what it's like. You know those made for TV movies where some woman's crouched down naked in a shower holding her knees sobbing because when she closes her eyes she can still feel the guys hands on her? How when they show the attack the woman's eyes go all blank and still and she goes to some other place in her mind just to deal with the horror of what's happening to her while some Lillith Fair song plays. Well, it's nothing like that. He's sturdy and sweaty and he licks your face and he wipes himself off in your hair and when you try to scream he punches you so hard you see God. And then he goes at you again ripping stuff you didn't even know you had because he enjoyed it so much the first time. I know you're just trying to help but if helping means that everyone is going to be looking at me the way you're looking at me now, please do not help me."
The show also touched on the topic of suicide when the main character Addison's mother Bizzy killed herself after her lesbian lover died of cancer- dramatic, right!? They did a wonderful job of validating suicide and those who have given in to the temptation with Addison's monologue to her brother Archer when she explains to him how/why their mother died:
"She killed herself, Archer....It wasn't an aneurysm or a heart attack. She took some-took a bottle of pills. I've spent so much of my life judging people, you know that? I've been so judgemental. It was actually one of the few traits I did get from Bizzy. When I was younger I would have thought it was weak, suicide, it's so weak. What was she thinking. How could she do that to us, to the Captain, to her children. But, when I found her all I thought was...'well..that's that.' People who do that they're not thinking. She wasn't thinking and they're broken. She was broken from grief. She was out to sea and she drowned. It doesn't make her selfish. It doesn't even mean that she didn't love us in her own way...That's what I would have said. If I could have told they truth, that's what I could have said."