Saturday, 17 October 2009

This girl's got nothing and she wears her heart on her wrist

"Lori is the perfect example of how you can't tell someone walking down the street has bulimia. She doesn't look like she has any problem at all, and that is what most look like"
- Laurel Guccione

So, university;

On the one hand it's amazing and fantastic and completely awesome. I feel like I've made friends and although insecurity and paranoia often get the better of me, I think I'm managing to get myself a half decent social life. I really, really miss my friends back home but it's not as if we ever met up more than every couple of months anyway so it's not really all that different. Bring on Christmas! I've joined some societies, drama and poi, me drama! I know! I'm also enjoying my course, well 3/4's of it, I have a module on 'Poetry and Society' for Eng Lit and the lecturer is so dull it's unbearable. I can barely keep awake let alone take in what he's saying! I also get Tuesday's and Wednesday's off which is fab!

Some things are not so great though, I've relapsed into bulimia and have really got myself into a mess very quickly. I’ve spent A LOT of my student loan on binge food, I've been throwing up mutiple times a day and taking a lot of laxatives. I'm worried that I'm not going to have enough money to live on or even for the second rent instalment I need to pay. I’m getting sick of having to clean my own bathroom already and puking just makes it a million times worse! I've spoken to my mum about it and she's looking after my bank cards for me so I have less access to cash and I've emailed my social worker who's going to see me on Wednesday. I might also look into getting uni counselling or going to the GP's over there to see what kind of services they offer. You'd think that I would have lost weight but for fucks sake I've gained! I am officially, technically, overweight and simply disgusting. Why am I such a fucking greedy fool! I honestly thought that once I got to uni I would be okay, I thought that I wouldn’t have the money to binge and that I'd just be eating pasta and soup all the time but no! It can never be fucking simple can it! I am so sick of this lose weight, gain twice as much routine (otherwise knows as an eating disorder) I've been stuck in ever since I was fourteen fucking years old. It really does your head in! FUCK YOU ED!

Other than the obvious stress of moving and starting uni, part of the trigger was that I found out that my Mum went into hospital for an operation and THEY DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME UNTILL SHE CAME OUT! I’m so angry. I understand why they did it, I really do, because I was moving out and starting uni and under 'a lot of stress' and they thought that I'd start self harming and OD'ing again but it doesn't matter, it hasn't really made all that much difference to my mental health because now I am completely PARANOID that they are keeping things from me. Since I've been here (at uni) I have had really bad bouts of paranoia, I guess it's being in a new, strange place with new, strange people. I can get past it most of the time but it's still incredibly frustrating to be thinking all wrong about everything. Ever since my anxiety got better, I've been increasingly more paranoid, where's the sense in that! I wonder if it may be a drink related thing so I'm trying to not drink so much to see if that helps. If it doesn't then I guess I need to go and get my medication reviewed. :/

I'm having a bit of a 'moment' right now. I hate how my brain is wired. A couple of months back I was in a real mess, self harming reeally badly, needing stitches severel times a week, overdosing on my meds. It was the anniversary of my rape which is never a pleasent time of year but for some reason this year it was worse than ever. I ended up spending three weeks in a crisis house and I really didn't think that I'd make it to uni and yet, here I am. Well technically I'm at home right now but whatever! The urges to SI have eased over the weeks and all but faded except for the odd occasion that sometimes I deal with healthily and sometimes I don't and mess up. That's only happened twice in about two months though which compared to before is fucking unbelivable. But for some reason I find myself missing that life I led for so long and feeling all nostaligic about it. It's the same with anorexia and being at a low weight. I miss the control I at least felt I had back then. I miss the size jeans I used to wear. I miss the routine and safety of being in hospital. I miss the feeling of accomplishment I got from going days without food. I miss the dizzy spells and the blackouts and - If I'm honest - the concern. It was never about attention but I felt so worthless that knowing that people cared meant something and it's hard to reassure yourself of that when there's nothing wrong. It was HELL. Being that ill with either self injury or an eating disorder is complete Hell and yet here I sit, years or months down the line, bloody missing it! Why does my brain have to work like that? Is it the BPD in me, craving chaos and destruction? Am I just bad? I know that it's because sickness is FAMILLIAR and SAFE and COMFORTING and this new life I'm leading is UNCERTAIN and SCARY and DIFFERENT but I still feel really guilty, really bad, for feeling the way I do.

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