Sunday, 30 October 2011

It's not war (just the end of love)

I realised today that I am terrified of my anorexia returning, and that it has a big part to play in my current relationship with food, in that I eat too much of the wrong thing because I feel like it might be the last chance to have it, that all or nothing feeling, I'm in the all phase right now but I want to get that under control, I don't want it to be a phase, I want to eat more healthily and lose some of this excess weight in the right way. But that fear of being sick again, of losing the weight and still hating my body and myself, of depriving myself of the comfort that eating gives me... I know I am stll disordered but I'm not anorexic, and I live in a kind of fear of becoming anorexic again. It's the last thing that I want. It truly is. If I start to lose weight will it trigger it. If I don't eat something that I want to eat will it trigger it. If I say no to a meal out or a dessert or wanting to eat cake instead of a proper dinner will it trigger it.

I'm in a vulnerable place right now. I'm probably quitting university. I'm living back with my parents. My future isn't really something that I have even the vaguest idea about. This is when the anorexia could kick in. That feeling of power and purpose. I overeat, or eat crap instead of real food, because I am terrified that saying no to anything will be the start of that Hell returning. Of tests and poking and measuring and appointments and meal plans and fear and anger and resentment and hospitals and Ensures and endless, endless numbers.

I have too much to lose. It would kill me if there was a next time, I am sure of it.

Saturday, 29 October 2011

Lost in the supermarket

I saw someone in town that looked like him. For half a minute I was convinced that it was him. The fear. The panic. The numbness. The memories. Waiting for the flashbacks. The nightmares to kick back in. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting... The feelings start somewhere towards to floor and rise up until they're clinging around my throat, making it hard to breathe, to swallow, to speak.

I have been struggling with anger recently. Feeling so angry at him. At myself for letting it happen. For not being heard. For not being strong enough to stop it. Maybe it's something that's wrong with me. Something damaged inside. Something that gave out the wrong signals. Something I did or didn't do. Something I said or didn't say.

I want to confront him. I want to make him understand. I want to feel like there is someone else in this memory, that it's not all just me. I want to believe that what he did was wrong and I want him to admit it because if he doesn't realise, then I don't think I can move on. I want to survive, and I am, but it's not enough, I want *more*, I want closure, I want revenge (kind of), I want to be told that it wasn't my fault, that he knew what he was doing and knew that it was wrong. I want the life I imagine that he has. I want the world to be on my side and not his. I feel so guilty feeling like this. I mean, really, what would it change? What would it take to make anything change? I could forgive him and move on but I'm not sure I can do that, so instead I want some kind of absolution from him, for him just to say I'm sorry, I was drunk, I made a mistake, he made a mistake... Is it just that, a mistake, is rape just a mistake? If he was drunk and I was drunk is there really anything wrong with that?

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Hit and run

I had my CPN handover earlier and now I'm officially a Leicester patient. Yaaay! No more dealing with the team back home! It was pretty anti-climatic really, nothing happened, I just had to give the m my new address and that was that. There seems to be no real plan of action right now...

I'm stressing over uni, I've missed a week now, whether I quit or keep going, I just don't know, what to do for the best, I don't want to get really unwell again, everything is so complicated though, accomdation and finance and stuff that's a real headfuck but you can't ignore. I'm going to try and go back in on Monday and give it another shot...

I want to come off Mirtazapine. I don't feel like it's working as well for me as it has been and the weight gain and appetite increase are really starting to effect me. I'm medically obese. I'm not sure what else there is out there in terms of antidepressents. I'm on Paroxetine at the minute as well but it doesn't do anything for my mood, majorly helps with the OCD 'moments' though. Seroquel which I've been on for years, it does exactly what it says on the tin most of the time, more sleep, less anxiety, less thoughts and noises. Lamictal which stops me from being all impulsive and erratic and Borderline and the Haloperidol that kills the bugs. Maybe it's the combination of all that that's making my mood crash, but I'm betting it's more likely to be a circumstantial starting uni leaving home type thing... But I would like to change the Mirtazapine around anyway, even if just to sort out the weight (14lbs +) I've gained on it. Going back on Duloxetine would be nice, or maybe even Venlafaxine, or something new....

I rang the psychaitrist's secretary to try and bring my appointment forwards but there are no spaces. I have to wait till 4th November, she's a new consultant, and a she which I am thrilled about. I have an appointment with the GP next week though for a med review and I may ask her what she thinks about changing antidepressents, at least I get to touch base with someone. I feel like I need some kind of structured therapy right now, I am being refered to the personality disorder services so maybe that's why I haven't been offered a psychologist or something like that, I don't know, there are just so many things going round in my head that I'm drowning into, and I don't want that, I want to be able to swim through them or around them or under them.

I don't understand why the flashbacks and nightmares are worse, unless it's knowing that counselling it's virtually finished without the whole thing really be resolved or 'cured', the wound's still bleeding (ha) metaphorically speaking. I can talk about it and write about it now without falling apart, which I know is a huge step, but I still find it so difficult and the feelings of self-blame and guilt and denial are still really intense.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

He loves me, he loves me not

I had a really awful night, lots of flashbacks about the last time I had sex with my ex. It was awful. He knew all about what happened to me when I was 17, we didn't talk about it but he definately knew, I am only starting to look back and realise what a dysfunctional relationship it was. All my friends told me to ditch him but I judt didn't see it. The last time we had sex was awful, I was upset and crying all the way through and he didn't stop, he got really rough and pushed me onto my stomach, I was crying the whole time from pain and fear and he just didn't stop... After than I refused to sleep with him, to even let him touch me, and he started doing big drama things like walking out of the middle of a party and ultimately leaving me in the middle of a festival in Budapest. The reason he gave was that it was because I was being selfish and not letting him get near me... I ended it after that but I should have ended up way before then. He indulged my drinking, my eating disorder, there were the dramas, and the last time we had sex, the last time I had sex with anyone. Since then I have been too scared. Why do people not stop when I ask them? Am I really that much of a pushover. It's like my feelings don't matter. Like what I want to happen and not happen to my body doesn't matter.

I don't want to think about this shit, I want to forget, I don't want to deal with this on top of dealing with everything else. No should be enough. Crying should be enough. Saying I don't want to should be enough. But it never is. Never.

I hate my body.

Sunday, 2 October 2011


This is the first time I've ever spoken about this. I don't know why it's suddenly on my mind.

I was sexually abused in primary school and I don't feel anything about it. I'm numb to it. It was just playing. Just games. I'm not angry, how can I be angry at a child? I do wonder if it made me who I am today. If it's what made me so scared of sex. I have NEVER had sex without the influence of drugs or booze. I can't conceive of a time where that would change. Right now I don't want to ever have sex again. I'm scared that what happened to me as a child is what made me the perfect person to get raped years later. That I give out some kind of signal. That I'm easy. That I'm drugged and stupid and can't fight back. That I can't say no. I have never been able to say no. Even when I've wanted to. I've danced around it. Said things like 'what about x' or 'I don't want to be doing this' but they have always carried on, I've always been ignored, I've been pressured into having sex, I've been drugged and dissociated, I've been abused by people who only minutes before were looking after me.

I pretend that I'm to blame because it's easier, I say it was my fault because then I have some control over it. People blame me. People don't believe me. I don't believe me. I don't trust my own mind. I don't trust my own memories. All I know is that I hate sex, I never want to have sex again and every time I think about it I want to cry and scream and freak out.

It was my fault. I was always broken.



My handover is a week on Wednesday and I should be getting referred to the personality disorder services, although I'm not convinced that's what I really want but I guess I should give it a shot if I can, and I have two sessions left at rape crisis. I don't know how I feel about it, the last couple of weeks I've really opened up, talked, it's been hard and painful but afterwards I've left feeling so much better, less like my skin is crawling, I haven't had 'bugs' in a few weeks now, which considering they got so bad is really positive. My main concern is that once it's over I'm going to go back to pretending it never happened, and then having flashbacks and nightmares because I'm keeping everything inside. What do I do next? Do I talk about it? Do I forget about it? Does the end of counselling mean that I'm 'over it'...

My GP has also taken up monitoring my medication, she's fantastic, I really like her, and I get to meet the new psych who's female (thank God!) which should be interesting. I'm on a lot of meds but they do seem to be working, like I'm not feeling great about everything but when I take uni out of the equaion I feel a lot better than I've done since before summer. The 'heatwave' has been really triggering so I hope it stops soon... If I stop taking them I feel truly dreadful, suicidal and buggy and constantly anxious and unstable and impulsive, when I was IP they took me off Haldol and Seroxat and I felt worse then I did before I went in. Don't get me wrong, I don't 'like' being so medicated, but I'd rather be medicated and stable than all over the place, especially now uni is starting, I don't really want to start changing things around...

I've been going home quite often to get some space, I'm really not comfortable living at uni, I feel isolated and paranoid and threatened and out of place and weird and sad and lonely and scared.

I've slipped back into binging and purging, and I've been head banging and biting myself and pulling my hair out, I'm not sure what it's about, I just feel overwhelmed and out of control. I hate pulling my hair out, I love my hair, it's not what I want to get into the habit of doing. I haven't 'properly' (burnt or cut) SI'ed in two weeks which is also positive, even if it's not perfect.

I'm also feeling my weight, I hate being obese, I just want to lose four stone and be healthy again, that's how much I have to lose to get my BMI back to <25. Starting today I'm trying to eat healthily, three meals and two snacks, and avoid food that trigger binging. I'm also hoping to join the swimming society, they train twice a week and that seems like a reasonable and safe amount of exercise and a way to meet new people and socialise. I'm really self-consious of my weight and my scars, I'm scared that people will be laughing at me because I'm obese, and thinking I'm a freak because of my scars. I'e been asked by two different people what happened to my arm in the last couple of days and it's made me more aware of it. The thing is I don't think that they're that bad, other people have ten times more scars than I do, my SI is pathetic and superficial compared to other peoples, it's such a fucking stupid headfuck.