It’s odd. Every morning i wake up with such bad thoughts surrounding food – the eating disordered ones that is. But by the end of the day, i’ve come to tolerate the anxiety (which is well documented; if you still with a high level of anxiety it eventually goes down and becomes bearable). I’m still engaging in behaviors like weighing myself entirely much more than i should, but my weight is back into the healthy range for my height (110), and it’s been there all week – meaning it’s not merely a matter of bloating, digestion, or dehydration. I’m finding that by the end of the day, my anxiety subsides enough for me to eat calorie dense foods, which is what i’m currently eating. It’s odd, because while it’s still irking me, not enough to send me into a full blown binge. The more i’m forcing myself to stick with this, the easier it’s getting. Day by day.
There’s an eating disorder support group i plan on attending tomorrow before my therapy session (which god am i fucking looking forward to as i have to much to process after these past few days), and i hope that i get something worthwhile out of it. If not, it’s still a helpful trip for me because it gets me out of my dorm, and i can leave early to the library (where it’s held) to focus on getting some more school work done, as i have to memorize all the areas of the brain, as well as study the psychopharmacology of anxiety disorders, depressive disorders, bipolar disorders and alternative treatments… on top of writing 2 papers. Sounds fun eh? Wanna join?
I made a small shopping spree as i was feeling lonely, isolated, and depressed today. So i used the little money i had left to get some groceries (and it ended up turning into a munchie-trip). I was delighted to see that the gluten-free limited edition waffles i adore were STILL being sold, as they’re no longer limited edition! I’m proud of myself for buying food that i normally wouldn’t eat – most of which were fear foods, as they would normally cause binges in the past (waffles, pasta,Starbursts chips, etc.). Like i said, they’re just munchie foods to get me through the week. I have a meal plan on campus i’ve been taking advantage of, as well as plenty of food already in my dorm room.
I’m proud of myself for eating, but i’m confused by the fact that i’m no longer experiencing such devastating emotional reactions to eating – like i used to/had for the past four years. Yes i’m still experiencing anxiety and compulsive urges, but they’re much more subtle and manageable than they have been.
It was hard to accept, but i may not be able to handle a live-in nanny position like my therapist and i thought would be a great idea this summer (to avoid moving back in with my parents or my ex if we worked things out), because my summer course schedule quite frankly doesn’t align with the job requirements. So i don’t know what i’m going to do, but until then, i’m going to work odds and end babysitting jobs (as it would still give me not only a great source of income and something positive/productive to do with my time, but it would also be a great way of me learning what healthy families function like). Since i can’t really be a full time nanny with my course load this semester, I joined Care.com and have been in contact with this family that just seems perfect, as they’re looking for somebody to help with their boys for the weekends. I’ve been placing applications for part time nanny jobs, as well as a few mental-health related ones (such as going out with a 23 year old female, meeting at Starbucks, etc. a few times a week to help her with her social anxiety), which i didn’t know was a sub-sect of Care.com! I’d adore either of the positions, but i’ve found a few ideal ones and i’m keeping my fingers crossed. I’m also calling the woman tomorrow about the weekend position, but i’m hesitant as her boys are two 5 year old autistic children.
I did just come across a site strictly for Nannys – ideal since Care.com makes it hard to find live-in nanny and they’re more so geard towards babysitting. Hopefully i can do some babysitting to put on my resume, for when i apply on the Nanny website. I don’t want to rule it out as an option, but it would be a challenging one. There is one couple who’s open for the idea of a work dynamic ranging from part time babysitting, to a full time live in nanny, so i’ve been contemplating messaging them!
I also contacted my old place of employment as i never received my disability app and they said they would call me -discerning since i haven’t been able to get a phone charger for days. I just hope i can get compensation for the time i was out, and the 26 weeks unemployment still as my night-shift has since been terminated within the company. I need to be more pro-active with that. Regardless i’m proud of taking the initiative to find a more appropriator job with my mental health situation (one that i feel like i’ll find rewarding at that!)
Oh. And even though i’ve been cutting corners like crazy (and i am STRINGENT AS FUCK with money) i’ve literally spent half of the 3,000 i had saved up, that was left over from my car deposit. So i’m freaking out and i’ve realized that i need to somehow force myself to get a job – even if at a minimal standard. Seeing how babysitting is often off the books, it’s perfect. I have thi compulsion around saving money and just watching it go go go go while my credit card bill goes up up up drives me nuts – especially since i was a self-sufficient woman a few months ago, paying her own cell phone bill, paying for her own car, gas, food, etc., and now i can barely pay for my own food, let alone the others.
I also decided this morning that i wanted to start working on the skeleton of what i hope will one day be a memoir, but for now i need to focus on my homework.
Fingers crossed! Time to go crash.
Oh wait. 5 minutes after this post i binged on an entire ball of mozzarella cheese. I haven’t binged – truly binged – in days. I was so proud of myself for eating normally but not binging. There goes that. Back to day one. Merely means i have an even higher goal to obtain now- instead of 5/6 days, i now have to hit 7 days binge free while eating healthy.
Thinking about my future makes me not want to have one. As dramatic as it sounds, the tears can only flow so long until they turn into sighs of anhedonia. Pure anhedonia. After i reach a state of nothingness, i start to remember how i got here in the first place. I’m stuck in this state that feels purgatory, but in reality is merely stripping me of all the things that define who i am….. and there weren’t that many to begin with. There weren’t that many because i didn’t really exist in the first place – i was always merely a shell of who i thought i was. A shell, with no internal substance. No internal meaning. No internal worth.
I’m not of meaning to many people, and the few people that claim to care – i know deep down that they do care, i know they do….but the words that flow from their lips seem meaningless in the grand scheme of the sadness that swallows me whole. When my self-esteem pummels any chance of finding self-worth, it’s hard for me to take people seriously who claim to give a damn. So i push them away, hoping they’ll be offended by my selfish actions, not sticking around for the episodic destruction that often follows.
It’s hard for me to find the motivation to get better, when i think so little of myself and i cannot believe that others think much of me. Viewing myself as less than a speck in the script of my own life, i view myself as ultimately powerless. I’ve worked so hard to try to not view myself as a victim of circumstances, but sometimes it’s hard not to feel hopeless when i’m stuck in this cycle of self-destruction and loneliness. People may call me pessimistic, but it’s true. I always end up here – alone, collecting scars on my skin like i used to stamps as a child, and catching tears of loneliness as though catching them would somehow make them stop.
Even being surrounded by people, feeling happy, and forming close bonds doesn’t make things any better. It’s always a matter of waiting for the shoe to drop – waiting for the emotions to come rushing in, to overcome any hard work i put in and to destroy what beautiful relationships i worked to form. It’s not fair to the people i love, the people in my life. The most precious people are the ones that get hurt. They’re the ones that deserve the world, and i always end up hurting them.
If i love you, i stay far away from you, and don’t let you into my life. There have been few exceptions to this, and on every occasion they were selfish, putting my own emotional/sexual desires before somebody else’s emotional well-being. No, that’s not right because i always need to put myself first and that’s not being selfish, but deep down i feel that’s the case.
Gosh i’m so dang confused. This is my first time not working full time/numerous part time jobs, and it’s just so puzzling. I know that i’ll soon likely end up going back to working, motivated by my pride and abundant ego. Such a large part of me is defined (and by that i mean that i identify myself by such) by my level of functioning. Not being able to function enough to work and go to school for the first time in four years is a huge blow to my ego – and bank account. In four weeks i’ve blown through a thousand of the dollars i’ve saved up.
I just want a sense of peace in my life – a sense of normalcy in terms of love, and support. I just want to feel fulfilled, i just want to sleep, i just want to eat, and i want to enjoy my life. I think that last one is the most important of them all: I want to fucking be able to enjoy my life above all else.
The only thing keeping me sane right now is Periphery’s new album Alpha (although they did have two come out recently)….
….it rings so true to everything i’m going through right now that i can’t stop playing it over and over. I need to see them live the next time they tour. I often find myself turning up the volume as loud as it will go on my car (i don’t know how i haven’t destroyed the speakers on my car yet), blasting their new albums (although i do prefer Alpha out of the two) – and screaming their songs. Normally i’m unable to feel a majority of what i experience throughout the day, but the music they produce just opens up my ability to experience emotion.
I never thought i’d say this, but metal is so incredibly cathartic. I used to find soft ambient music would make me feel like that, and now it’s metal. People assume it makes me angry and fired up, which it doesn’t. A lot of these performers seem to sing about really dark shit, which is why i think i connect so deeply to the music they perform. The bass, screaming, and guitar aspects of the metal amplifies what i hear throughout the song, and intensity of what i feel.
An except from Periphery’s song ‘Omega’ off of their album Juggernaut: Omega:
The past sees me and it won’t let go
Greeted by those I’ve killed along the way, because I am the destruction
The past sees me and it won’t let go
A demon born out of their rite in throes
This is the truth
I am a demon born out of their rite in throes
Soiled by the world of man
I am the destruction
I am fear
I am sin
I am the destruction
This memory ignites
The past sees me
Visions of me grow
Greeted by family
Painting dissolution and a life of an insect
The past it will not let me go
I’m lost within my own soul
A ghost within times of old
The clock turns back but is this real?
Tell me, is this real?
This morning i went to the dentist for a cap on my back molar, graduating from my pediatric dentist to a ‘grown up’ dentist (yay, haha). I ended up needing a root canal, so i currently can’t feel half of my mouth/face. It’s an odd sensation, but slowly i’m gaining back the feeling in my mouth, and it hurts. I also ended up getting a mouth guard as i apparently grind my teeth. Shocker with how worked up i am, eh?
It didn’t hurt or anything really, and i oddly was able to accept the compliment that the dentist gave me, that i was an easy patient and rather ‘loose’ as you’d expect many people freak out at the dentist (especially with root canals). It was just a pain in the butt trying to drink afterwards, as i couldn’t drink with a straw.
I weighed myself this morning and my scale says i still maintained a gain of 5 pounds. I’m driving to my apartment as i woke up 45 minutes late, and forgot my key when i headed to the dentist (which was around the corner from the apartment my ex and i had). So i had to drive back to my dorm regardless. It was a slap in the face to open up my bank account to see how little money i have left. Even though it’s an hour out of my way and i have a lot of homework to do i may drive down there in a bit, just to give myself something to do. I need my scale to see if this new weight is real or not. If it is, i’m going to lose it. I also need to empty my car out. If it’s real, i’m not going to yoga. I don’t deserve it and i need to go for a jog to loose some – illogical but just losing sweat (dehydration) would make me feel better; after being 5-7 pounds less for so long it would really throw off what little stability i have to gain this weight.
My mother had to pay for my dental work as i couldn’t afford it. So i ended up going back to her house, which i haven’t back to since moving in with my boyfriend and ex-communicating my parents about a year or two ago. It was awkward, but at least i got to see my bunny. I saw my brother there which was nice. I told her i was being evaluated for an IOP program Tuesday and she just brushed over the topic to talk about how her girlfriend was looking for nail products, since we agreed to go to the mall.
“Explaining my Depression to my Mother”
Mom says i am so good at making something out of nothing
then flat out asks me if i am afraid of dying.
No. I am afraid of living.
My mouth a bone-yard of broken teeth broken from biting down on themselves. The hallow auditorium of my chest swoons from echos of my heartbeat, but i am a careless tourist here. I can’t truly know everywhere that i have been. Mom still doesn’t understand.
Mom still doesn’t understand. Mom – can’t you understand, neither do i?
We ended up at Lush since i’ve been splurging a bit and i told her about the company. I bought some foot lotion since my feet have been in a lot of pain – and i’ve been using one of their face masks which has been helping my skin. She paid for the lotion which was nice, and gave me some money along with money for the rent i owe my old tenants. At least i’m able to save a bit, but i’m going to be wasting so much gas just to head back down in order to get that scale and weigh myself, ugh. I’m trying to view the face mask and lotion as a form of self care, but any time i spend money on myself – even though i work really hard to be stringent about it (even spending money on food makes me feel this way….) which is the reason i started out unemployment with $3,000 – i feel guilty and inherently unworthy/wasteful. I feel as though i can always be more resourceful.
I just unpacked some clothes i grabbed form the house and i’m feeling so many things, as i came across two objects that reminded me of my aunt while i was in my parent’s house (technically what was supposed to be my room, but what has since turned into the rabbit’s room since i’ve left). I came across a photo of the two of us as a child on my uncle’s boat, and a scarf she knit me while on bed rest right before passing away. I brought the two of them to my dorm room, assuming they would help me grieve.
I feel like nobody is ever going to love me again, or tolerate my mental illnesses. Sure there are plenty of people sexually attracted to me who think my illnesses are simple when i actually get the guts to tell them i’m mentally ill, but there are never people who are willing to stick around. People don’t seem to understand how devastating it is for people with mental illnesses to be promised support, then be left alone without such.
Gosh it’s so hard for me to accidentally stumble across pictures like this.
One of my friends is coming down from CT to NJ for a convention, and invited me at first for dinner in her hotel. It may be a bad idea but she invited me to screw around with her and her boyfriend a bit, to which i accepted. She knows i’ve been in a bad place though and she herself has struggled with mental health problems, so she told me that if need be we can all just have cuddles with Hello Kitty blankets. I’m ready to cancel my plans with her and everybody else. I’ve been making a huge effort to see people and be open with them – i saw my friend Sam yesterday and we talked about what’s been happening with my ex and I as well as what he’s been upset/stressed over – but it’s all taking so much energy that i’d rather be starving, isolated, and keeping to myself.
I can relate so much to Neil Hilborn’s spoken word (this was the first of his pieces i came across – the others are just as tear-jerking). Sorry for the spoken word references….i’m trying to see Sierra DeMulder with a friend when she comes to my state, so i’ve been drowning in it these past few days.
“OCD”
Some mornings i’d started kissing her goodbye but she’d just leave as i was making her late for work.
When i stopped at a crack in the sidewalk she just kept walking.
When she said she loved me her mouth was a straight line. She told me that i was taking up too much of her time.
She started sleeping at her mother’s place. She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her – that this whole thing was a mistake.
But how could it be a mistake if i don’t have to wash my hands after i touch her? Love is not a mistake.
I just can’t. I just can’t go out and find somebody new……she was the first beautiful thing i ever got stuck on.
I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I’m being drowned by some kind of black wave.
Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation
I’ve sat here for two days trying to find some sort of way to snap out of this, but i’ve yet to find something that’s worked. I’ve gone to yoga with my room mate, watched copious amounts of Netflix, i hung out with a friend when i found myself setting inside my head too much, and now i’m about to go to to class. I got a good amount of my homework done, slept plenty, actually ate for once, and I’ve been trying to use skills to deal with my emotions.
Nothing feels real. Nothing feels as though i’m experiencing it in the here and now. To be quite frank, nothing feels as though i’m experiencing it at all, which the level of anhedonia I’ve found myself at. The one thing i lived for – my schoolwork – no longer even brings me pleasure. It’s a chore.
I’m merely going through the motions. I don’t have any more hope with any of this, and i feel completely depleted, as if every thing i cared about has completely dissipated from my life.
I’m still doing things knowing that i have to do them, but again none of it feels real. None of it feels safe. My eating habits were the one thing that kept me grounded, and those have been all over the place – fluctuating between eating normally and restricting – so not having those to depend upon has me feeling extremely unstable. When i don’t have my eating disorder to fall back upon my struggles with self injury tend to come forth, as a trade off of sorts. It’s seemingly always one or the other.
I don’t want more scars on my body. I don’t want more reminders of my demons, but i’m starting to think that’s unavoidable. I’m losing hope that i’m ever going to find my way out of this alive. I’m pushing away everybody i lure into my life, testing them far past their limits if i don’t completely stop ignoring them. I’ve since deleted the entry since it irks me, but i felt the need to keep the quote i found elsewhere.
When they love me… I test them, incessantly, until they finally stop showing up for exams. People don’t give up on me—they drop out.
I hate that my illnesses have managed to single-handedly destroy every valuable relationship and accomplishment i’ve managed to build and obtain. They taint everything i work so hard to establish. People don’t understand, people aren’t patient and people can’t handle me – but at the same time, i can’t blame them for that. I can’t blame them for a single second, because i wouldn’t tolerate this bullshit either if i was healthy.
I wouldn’t tolerate me either. I’m trying to stop have this inherently ‘bad’ self-defeating perspective of myself as i know it’s at the core of a lot of my struggles, but it’s hard after a lot of what i’ve done. You try fucking assaulting people and try looking at yourself the same way – especially when you grow up as a child being told that you’re a inherently horrible person so it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. It’s hard to not psych yourself out and start to believe these things when they actually begin to come true.
I’m just trying to find pleasure in some aspect of my life at this point, as absolutely nothing makes me happy. It’s incredibly odd because i have the energy to still do things – something i didn’t have last week – but i’m just going through the motions. I’m just trying to find a spark of pleasure and satisfaction in something somewhere – something to enjoy or be proud of in some aspect of my life. It’s harder than i thought.
I decreased my dose of Wellbutrin which has been a huge trade off as well, since my eating habits have been all over the place (both a good and bad thing), but so have my moods; the withdrawal has had flu-like physical effects on me and my insomnia has been horrific from it. I’ve also been experiencing what feels like neuropathy from the withdrawal, but at the same time i’m starting to be able to speak again. I looked it up, and apparently people who are sensitive to the drug are prone to experiencing expressive aphasia. I’m starting to wonder if the higher dose (i was on 300XL) was worsening my ability to speak. Obviously it didn’t cause my struggles, but it definitely made them a lot worse as i’m finding it a lot easier to share – both in writing and in person – more intimate details of my life with people in general. It could just be psychobabble or it could be reality.
My perception of reality should’t be trusted these days.
Today i woke up feeling rather sluggish, but yesterday i prepared for my negative emotions as the weekends have been hard for me these past two weeks (and seeing how it’s Valentine’s Day this weekend, i see this one being particularly hard).
So, i signed up for a hot yoga class last night – a hot vinyasa flow. I went after grabbing some coffee, and i was the second to last to enter the room. It was a really relaxing experience – which i always find so contradictory seeing how much stress i’m putting on my body by being in such a hot room. It’s such a great high though, that when i do one class i just want to keep going. The teacher was really encouraging, and seeing how it was only my 4th class, i was really proud of the fact that she adjusted my poses once throughout a 75 minute session. I work really hard on my form when i’m doing videos or in any sort of class (which isn’t often but i’m trying to change that).
I went back to campus, and brought some clothes to my dorm room from my car (i never had the energy to unpack the things i put in there, after getting my things from the apartment my ex and i had). I then got started on some homework, and i was rather productive in terms of errands as well. I stopped by the bank, set up an appointment with the dentist (which i’ve been putting off for weeks now….fuck), called about this 12 step yoga program, anddddddddd got even more work done.
From there i thought about going back to my dorm room to relax, but i knew that it would end in some form of self destruction, so i drove to Marshall’s to grab some yoga gear, undecided if i wanted to go to my first 12 step yoga meeting. I then went to the mall which is where i am – getting some more work done. It’s 5:45 (on the dot actually, as i write this), and the class is at 7:30. I have the things in my car that i need so i have no excuse for not going. I’m just hesitant to be so open, and increasingly so.
I’m trying to think of something to do tomorrow. I asked a few friends to go to the mall but only one responded and she was busy with work tomorrow. So i’ll likely print out Mandalas to color if i find myself in distress, or head to the gym for a run – which i haven’t done in ages. I have a ton of homework though, so i don’t see that being a problem anytime soon. I’m more so concerned with my ability to get my homework done as i can barely do that these days. Barely. I just need to stop thinking about things but i can’t. I can’t stop cycling in my mind about horrible things have gotten, and how many times – over and over and over – i’ve done wrong. I feel like a fucking monster and the only way i can avoid thinking about that is staying horribly busy.
Edit: The 12 step yoga group was absolutely amazing. I normally have such a hard time talking, but i forced myself to talk and it felt somewhat fluid. The people in the group i could relate to – every single one of them for one reason or another – and things were just so much more fluid than i thought they would be. I actually learned that the woman teaching my yoga class this morning used to have a substance abuse problem (she was filling in for the yoga teacher that normally holds the meetings, oh coincidences), which was beautiful since her class this morning being so restorative is what motivated me to go tonight. I want to go weekly, and use the Groupon i just bought to do another class weekly. They really calm me down, reduce my emotional re-activity, and help me to regain my positivity.
Usually i listen to angry and depressing music while driving to release my emotions/energy, get on the drive to the supermarket after my class (for yet another pint of ice cream of course), i put on the Pop2k station and just JAMMED out to songs from my childhood/teenage years. It was glorious and i feel like i’m on top of the world. Now, logically i know that this is what people feel on a day to day basis when they’re not stressed or going through something bad, but it’s been SUCH a long fucking time that i’ve felt this good.
I really need to be more sparse with my money. But. I feel like the 80% of classes deal on Groupon is justified since it’s a component of my mental health. I just hate that i have no income and i have to watch my bank account continually drop down and down. It’s INFURIATING after i worked my ASS off for so long and so hard, merely to watch it deplete so quickly due to having no income – not to mention i’ll be paying hundreds upon hundreds of dollars of bills starting next week (technically it was supposed to be today but there goes my credit score: cue panic attack).
It’s just so odd because i had the MOST glorious and enjoyable while also productive day, yet i still had so many cascading negative emotions pop up. Starting my day off with yoga helped me to work through them first by pushing them away until i could deal with them a few hours later, and by then i was able to look at them logically – which turned them from emotional crises into mere problems that needed to be solved. With a limbic system like mine, it’s amazing what the gift of time can do.
I’ve been trying to get into a DBT program. I feel like a psychotherapy group, DBT group, yoga and individual therapy would be just what i need right now. The combination of emotional processing in the group dynamic, the yoga for spirituality and obviously individual therapy for obvious reasons would be ideal. It’s just hard to schedule around my insane school schedule.
You said forever
Now you look right through me
You said forever
Did your words fall short like you
What have I done?
I’m a fucking monster
When all I wanted was something beautiful
My love too much
Your love not enough
My love too much
Your love..
Oh, what it takes out of me to lay by your side
Oh, how it aches and it aches
You make me wanna die
I gotta kill you, my love
I gotta kill you, my love
Oh, what it takes out of me to lay by your side
I found your hairband on my bedroom floor
The only evidence that you’ve been here before
And I don’t get waves of missing you anymore
They’re more like tsunami tides in my eyes
Never getting dry so I get high smoke in the day then I sleep with the light on
Weeks pass in the blink of an eye
And I’m still drunk by the end of the night
I don’t drink like everybody else
End up forgetting things about myself
I’m stubborn I’m forward head’s just blocked
My head’s still with you but my hearts just not
So am I close to you anymore if it’s over
And there’s no chance that we’ll work it out
I downloaded Ed Sheeran’s album ‘+’ today after my hot vinyasa class, which was an impulsive but genius decision. Thus far i’m only really familiar with one or two of his songs, but i can relate to so many of the lyrics i’m hearing. I keep having the experience i quoted above, which is becoming exhausting and draining on my good days. It’s just so comforting to find that somebody else out there can relate, and it’s soothing to find a song i can repeatedly listen to while i work my way through this.
I still can’t believe it’s Valentine’s day tomorrow, something i normally don’t care about at all. I’m a firm believer in the fact that showing love and appreciation is something i should do all year ’round, and shouldn’t specify for one day merely because Hallmark designates me and my wallet to specifically do such on February 14th. This year though – with the breakup and everything else – it’s really getting to me. I feel hypersensitive to the couples and love around me, something i feel really isolated from. I’ve tried connecting with a few members of the group therapy i started and i’m trying to get plugged into yoga this week to distract me from such. It’s something that always seems to plague me when i’m feeling lonely though – much like during my episodes, i suddenly become incredibly hypervigilant.
I’m not even particularly aware of romantic love – although due to the nature of Valentine’s day, that is the kind currently being shoved in my face by campus couples, and obnoxious commercials. At this point, any display of affection or love activates my system, causing me to long for some sort of comfort. I instigated this whole ordeal with my ex-boyfriend 19 days ago (i just looked it up, and it literally feels like months at this point) and i don’t think i’ve been more isolated before – if i have, it was only during the short period of time before i met him. I am just dying for some sort of stability in my life….some sort of comfort, some sort of sense and some sort of security. My emotions are changing so frequently and so drastically at that.
The ironic thing is that i’m pushing away the few people who are displaying the fact that they care. Such a large part of me wants to be completely isolated during this, and another part of me is dying for affection – but i realize that satisfaction will only come from my ex, which is why i need to find a way to get through this alone. I wonder if i’ll ever be okay. Anytime i think i start tearing up. I feel so deserted by my life and so abandoned by my logic. I just want more than anything else some clarity. Something.
I’m finding myself heading in the polar opposite direction, which i realize is unhealthy as well. I”m vowing off of romantic and sexual relationships for the rest of my life – something i told myself i would do had my relationship with my ex not worked out. I think that was another reason i held onto him for so long, even though what we had eventually became so toxic.
My eating disorder and BPD is what he fell in love with – not me. The more i think about it, the more i realize this. Nobody is ever going to truly love me for who i am. Actually, the more i think about it, the more i’ve come to realize what a shitty concept love is. I’m only really talking to two people right now, and i’m ready to block them on my phone. I’m beginning to concentrate enough to focus on my schoolwork again, so i’m just going to start obsessing over that.
I have a 12-step yoga class tonight (which i’ve been contemplating starting for a while now), but i’m having many second thoughts. Talking is the very last thing i want to do right now – forming connections when i want to exist in isolation and without the assistance, love, or support of people is not what i should be doing. I feel like i need to cry though, so i may go for that.
I normally never cry and i’ve been bawling like a baby for the past 3 weeks. Our relationship numbed out my BPD so i could never get better and now my emotions are all over the place, to an unmanageable extent. Nobody is ever going to love me again, so i’m not going to put myself out there for such to happen. The one person i want to love me is also my biggest toxin right now, and my defenses are back up. After three years of finally being open with somebody for the first time, my defenses are back up and i feel like nobody can be trusted, to any extent. It’s hard for me to even continue writing freely on here, for i question my own readiness to get better.
I don’t think i’ll ever be ready to get better. Especially not now. I can’t do it alone but i can’t do it in a toxic relationship and i’m never going to form relationships again.
Today i had to go to a surgical center, for a rather quick surgical procedure. I’ve been having a few minute stomach problems, so my doctor wanted to do an endoscopy, which she wanted me under anesthesia for. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, as I’ve been for many same day surgeries as a child. Medical procedures don’t intimidate me, and if anything i find medicine so fascinating that i often enjoy using the process as a means of experience and education (getting to experience first hand the things I’ve learned about in coursework). Today things were different.
I’ve neglected talking about it as i experienced it as a small trauma as sorts, which makes me feel rather petty or dramatic. At times i wonder if looking back on my experiences makes this an instance of catastrophic thinking. I know logically that my experiences would have been horrifying to anybody in my position, but i can’t help but feel as though given my perspective and tendency to overreact to things that i was doing such during my stays in the hospital.
During the fall of 2014, i checked myself into the hospital twice due to feeling as though i was a danger to myself. I feel suicidal idealization pretty chronically so that was nothing new, but my emotional instability with the constant psychosocial and medication changes last fall were just inherently different. Nothing felt as though it was in place, and i completely felt apart – even though i had more support than i do now. Nothing made sense, and i didn’t even have my schoolwork/career, which was the one thing i prided myself in. It felt as though i had lost everything in my life that meant anything. After an episode caused my boyfriend at the time to leave me out of fear, i hit what seemed to be at the time my ‘rock bottom’. I had nothing, and nobody…..and on top of it, my emotions were out of control. Overwhelming at best.
My first stay at the hospital didn’t feel real, and the minute i checked myself in i regretted it. Quite possibly due to my instability or perhaps due to the environment or maybe a mesh of the both…..i felt judged every step of the way in there. I remember being curled up on a hospital bed being instructed to take out my piercings, having a police officer watch me every minute of the day, and having nurses at 3am lecture me about the ‘beauty of Jesus our savior’ while trying to check me in. Over and over i just told my story, to every doctor who asked. I felt so disconnected from my reality and it was hard enough trying to admit to myself that i was dangerous – let alone doctor after doctor and nurse after nurse who asked me the same. The police man who was instructed to guard my room didn’t even bother to smile at me. He just stared while i cried and sat in the emergency room bed curled up in a ball.
My experiences on the ward were no better – i felt belittled by the students/volunteers there doing internships/residency, as they kept talking down to me, asking me menial questions such as what my name was, what made me happy, and what led me there. It wasn’t the questions that bothered me though, and more so the manner in which they were asked. I was being spoken to as if i was a child, as opposed to an ill individual. They called my parents without my consent to ask questions about my well-being, the showers never worked, i couldn’t relate to anybody there and i couldn’t even use tampons (of course i was hospitalized a day or two before each of my periods, which i’ve come to find is no coincidence) so i had to sneak them in. My eating disorder was at it’s worst when i was there, and i remember being FURIOUS after forcing myself to eat day after day of sheer fear of going hungry (due to them of course not having any of my safe foods), yet a girl there being picky about her eating due to her depression, so her family brought her shakes, burgers and fries each night to eat. Otherwise, no food was allowed to be brought into the facility. For god’s sake, i had to sneak tampons in there like high school students sneak recreational drugs around. It was humiliating.
Things got to be their worst when i realized that my gender expression was what was ultimately holding me there. Every day i asked them when i would be going home, and they never could tell me. Every day they offered the women the opportunity to basically have a supervised self-care time, during which you could use makeup and cosmetics. I’ve never been one to use makeup, and in all honesty i only tend to use it when i’m trying to hide something (primarily, how shitty i’m feeling as it works quite well in deterring people from how poor i’m doing). I avoid makeups that aren’t organic due to their toxins as well….but i got SO bored in there that i played with the makeup one day. All of the staff complimented me as to how well i was looking, and by the next day i was brought home. My parents tried every single day to visit me and for a while i didn’t allow them – which i was also scolded for as well. I didn’t like the staff there, with the exception of a kind nurse or two. My attraction to the one nurse and my affinity for the other nurse (a Doctor Who fan) may have been the justification in that one.
My second stay was no different, and if anything just ten times worse. My friend brought me to a facility he himself had been at before, expecting i would be checked in there. He had amazing experiences inpatient there, and hoped i would have the same. Instead i ended up in their psychiatric ER for three days, which was an absolute horror. They often forgot to deliver our meals, the tv was only on for 2/3 hours a day, and for two of the three days it took to place me somewhere (which was so fucking infuriating since i couldn’t see anybody while i was in there and time on the phone was SO limited) i was in the hallway. I only had a room for one day. They wouldn’t let us use writing utensils and the police man in the hallway there was a douche bag for every shift except one. One of the men – an elderly alcoholic who really just seemed a bit depressed – ended up in the same hospital as me. A manic Bipolar Man had some great conversations with me, and i remember shivering with terror as i listened to a large woman be sedated out of a psychotic episode numerous times. Every time she woke up she would start throwing her selves against the wall, and i’m pretty sure they had to restrain her.
The one day they let me shower, i just started bawling. When they asked me why i was so upset, i told them (shocking since i normally have such a hard time with communication) how degrading it was to need 4 individuals to escort me – a 5’4″ and 120 pound girl – to a shower. It was hard enough trying to figure out if my boyfriend and i were still dating, on stop of dealing with the drug addict screaming down the hallway, the psychotic woman, etc. Now on top of that, i had to feel like a caged animal, taking 3 nurses and 1 police officer to escort me to the shower.
I was going to make a comment about how i’m not a violent individual, but i just realized that after the fall i don’t have the right to do that. So my brain just went from full fledged writing and expressive mode, to feeling like an idiot and shutting down. I don’t feel like i have the right to feel so dehumanized, when their measures for protection are so justified.
The ironic thing? Going in patient just made me want to die even more. I just learned how to lie better and fake being happy, because i hated being checked on every ten minutes, and treated like a child. I hate having my life micromanaged and in all honesty if it ever comes down to it, i don’t think i’ll admit to feeling like that again. I don’t ever want to have that experience – it’s dehumanizing. Looking back on all of this, i’m beginning to wonder if my second hospital stay was more so an action of self-destruction than self-care knowing how horrific it would be.
I’ve never been one to grieve, and normally it’s more of a numb state of sorts. Normally when i lose somebody in my life i cry for a day or two, then get over them. My ex i can’t get over. I sob hysterically every time i think of him and no matter how much i try to banish him from my mind, i can’t. Growing up i had a hard time feeling grief, but i think that for the first time – with all of the toxic people i’ve been banishing from my life – i’m starting to experience it. It feels foreign, as i was never taught how to deal with it, and i was taught to internalize negative emotions. I distinctly remember in 7th grade floating in a pool the day after my closest relative died unexpectedly of cancer, unsure of how to feel knowing that i should feel sadness. I felt incredibly numb yet deep down felt a tinge of sadness and tried so hard to process that, yet couldn’t.
The next few months/year i started to show Borderline symptoms. To this day i think that her death was the stress that triggered my illness. It was that traumatic of an experience to me, with how close i was to her. I never grieved her death, or any loss in my life really. I never knew how to.
At first i was in denial that things had even happened between my boyfriend, and then i entered a period of numbness (what i normally entered and stayed in, before snapping out of it and entering a period of normalcy). Now, i’m going from numbness, to a deep sense of sorrow and sadness. With how deep this sadness is, i feel as though sadness isn’t the correct word. I’m trying to make sense of things but they always come rather directly back to me or back to him and i’m trying to not look at things through such black and white lenses. It’s hard not to blame myself when i know that my mental health issues are ultimately why this relationship deteriorated.
Cascading, everything feels as though it’s pouring out. I’m mourning the loss of my friendship with M from this past fall as i had some semblance of hope when he reached out to me, yet when i insisted on maintaining healthy boundaries, he stopped responding. I blame myself for that as well, but as of recently I’ve been missing him. As of these past few days, the immense amount of sadness has also been so deep that i feel as though sadness is not the correct word.
Increasingly, my inability to speak is infuriating. I have so much i want to say and express but the words don’t find their way out of me, and my ex was the only person who really had the patience to listen. Even he left though.
I told myself that he was the last person i was letting in, and i’m sticking to that. I gave myself one last chance to have a relationship, and time and time again i proved to myself that i’m not capable of such. All i wanted was an ion of support and somebody to trust. All i wanted was somebody who would stick by me while i tried to get better. All i wanted was somebody who would fucking stick by. People come in and out of my life – i know that i have a tendency to push people away as a precautionary movement of sorts – but i explain this to people.
I don’t know what to do. I’m trying so hard to overcome these tendencies, but when nobody wants to remain in my life and i push anybody away how am i supposed to live? I fight them as hard as i can, but when i’m episodic, everybody i’m close to is seen as threatening and dangerous, so my inherent instinct is to do whatever it takes to push people away.
At this point i don’t expect people to stay. People have proven to me time and time again through their actions that the relationship i provide them with isn’t worth it. I’m that bad of a girlfriend/friend.
Time and time again. I’m alone.
“But what if you simply don’t have a solid self to return to—if the way you are is seen as basically broken? And what if you can’t conceive of “normal” or “healthy” because pain and loneliness are all you remember?”
I keep looking up recovery information, yet all the recovery information i come across is how others can recover from my existence.
I was foolish enough to text my close friend S a few days ago when i had an episode during which i threw my phone out of a car window. That’s out of character for me, so red flags are going off in every area of my life right now. I told her about this, and as i should have expected, i was provided an answer about how my brain reacts to relationships in the same way it does to withdrawal from cocaine, when individuals are leaving relationships. I know she’s right – i’ve actually thought about that throughout this entire break up process in fact. It doesn’t help though, and throughout this experience i’m coming to realize exactly how much i seek other people out for my emotional regulation and soothing, when those things should be internal. They should grounded within me. I sometimes find solace in behavioral neuroscience but tonight was one of those nights.
It’s so painful for me to open up to people, and my dear friend S mentioned above is one i’ve known for years. She’s an amazing woman of strength, character, and wisdom. So after telling my therapist for the first time this past week that i’ve been feeling chronically suicidal, i figured that i would also open up to my friend. I usually tell her that things are rough with my mood or my relationship – just general overviews – but this time i went in depth and still got the same response. I have this habit of seeing out validation and soothing from people i know won’t give it to me.
I talked to my ex, and things have just been off the wall for lack of a better description. I always experience this drastic push and pull in my relationships (which took an extreme form in the phone/window ordeal), that i don’t know how to handle this. One minute i’ll be really patient and communicative wanting him back, and the next i’ll want nothing to do with him, remembering how much i loathe people in my life as i cause them so much pain.
I can’t seem to get a straight answer out of him. For example – after i dumped him i said something along the lines of “I understand if you disliked me, didn’t want me any more [in a romantic context], etc.” and he responded to that with “when did i say that? I never said that”. So my hopes were lead to believe that wasn’t the case at all. I don’t know why he said that – a ploy or attempt to attack me perhaps??
I dumped him, and a week later when i explained that i’m in this deluded confused hormonal state, he told me that the break up was so traumatic that he couldn’t be with me, and that this was the final straw. So i proceed to tell him that I don’t talk to my ex’s – something that’s been constant with me – and for some reason this seemed to irk him a bit. I keep probing him though, trying to figure out exactly what it was that i did wrong. Had i not initiated the break two weeks ago none of this would be happening. Albeit i would still be in an unhealthy relationship, but i would still have SOME support. SOMEthing in my life.
Now? I have no friends. There’s a girl i know in my dorm room who lives a floor below me (on top of the one mentioned above), but I’ve become so depressed that the energy of interacting with them is far more than i can manage to expend. I have no money. I have no job, as i left and i’m applying for short term disability – which means i need to get a note, which i’m both thrilled about (because i may actually start having money; being neurotic and working so hard to save money while watching it go down the tubes so quickly due to being out has been stressful). I know my chances of being accepted are slim. I’ll have no phone, no car insurance, and as of right now i have no home. I’m staying in my dorm room. My ex said i could live with him if it meant not ending up on the streets, but that would mean me rather fighting with him 24/7, or literally sitting in a corner and only leaving to use the bathroom. Like i said above – i don’t talk to my exs. As this post explains a bit, out of sight out of mind (to a lesser extent that is).
Every time i text him about the car insurance, or the things i need to grab from the house…..part of me just hopes so dearly that he’ll come out and tell me that he wants to give things another chance. The fact that i ended this relationship yet he’s the one doing all of this is terrifying for me. In the past, i’ve always ended relationships due to one particular relationship my junior year of high school. The endings of relationships DESTROY me, yet when i do it as opposed to the other person, it’s so much more bearable. So if i get the sense a relationship is about to end – and i tend to be right with that one – i end them.
Three weeks ago we were hanging out, and he came to get me from my dorm due to the fact i was feeling incredibly ill (which is why i stopped going to work). We were driving down the high way and things were silent – which they usually aren’t – when my ex randomly blurted out “why don’t we have fun anymore”? It got to me. It continued to get to me. Now it really fucking gets to me. I didn’t know how to answer that but i knew the truth – it’s because our lives had become so stressful that any leisure time we had has since become dedicated to chores, as the time we last spent on chores has gone to work and school. We don’t have leisure time, or alone time. We don’t have time, period.
After a lot of thinking and analyzing, i came to realize that i wasn’t trying to leave my ex. My communication skills have become so bad that i had no way of expressing to him the depth of my anger towards him, about the situation at hand; i had no way of explaining to him how much it hurt me to do so much of the house work, and how much it hurt me that he held the financial situation over my head. I did what i did as a means of communication not as a means of trying to truly end the relationship, but for him it was a last straw of sorts. I should have told him that our communication needed work, and we needed more autonomy and that we needed to focus on ourselves….but my actions are much more easily utilized than words for me. Especially when i’m PMSing and my thinking is the furthest thing from logical (to an extent that makes me question if i have PMDD in all honesty).
We talked about things further, and on Monday he told me that he would give things one last chance in the spring, but that he needed the time to work on himself. Again, here’s the push and pull. I keep telling myself that the spring is a legitimate chance that i have, to do what i’ve been trying to get us both to do for a very long time – take some time apart to work individually on our own issues, then to reconvene about our relationship. The problem? As of right now, there is no relationship. As of right now he’s seemingly not open to the idea even though he’s sitting here telling me he’s entering the spring with an open mind.
I’m trying to not take the spring seriously or to even hold onto it for a modicum of hope, for it means that i’m setting myself up to go throughout his all over again. For years i’ve been asking him to simply work on himself and to approach couple’s counseling with me (of course also doing the same myself). Do i take this as the relationship being over? Should i put even an ounce of hope into this as possibly being a healthy outcome?
I love him, but it’s all so confusing. For example – we would start talking about something, and then the minute that a question came up he seemingly didn’t want to answer, he’d respond with something along the lines of “Oh, boundaries” (which ironically he NEVER fucking did in our relationship even though i tried for YEARS to have conversations and work with our relationship on this), or “We’re not talking”. If those were truly concerns of his, he would have addressed them right off the bat, and not after questions 30 minutes later.
I don’t know what to do. I want this relationship back desperately and he’s told me that he’s invested in taking time off to work on himself but such a large part of me doesn’t believe him. I realize that’s likely my perspective and not the reality of things (since obviously he’s going to have an irritable disposition towards me, as i likely do towards him), but he seems different in how he’s reacting to this so i really don’t know how to take things. I’ve been telling him for so long that we needed a break, but after dumping him – which caused my cognition to switch into this innate perspective of hating him – that i should be realistically optimistic about this, taking reality as it is. I should accept that it’s a possibility that we may work things through and go back to how they were in the beginning – with healthy communication and what not – but i shouldn’t hold onto that idea as my saving grace.
The problem is, ever since hearing that on Monday i’ve actually had a motivation to get better. Before i met him it wasn’t that i lacked motivation but instead the consistency and support that i so desperately long for. Dating him gave me the emotional consistency and eventually the ‘proof’ i longed for my entire life that somebody loved me. As i began to show him the ugly parts of me, he accepted those too. The problem is, that process went too far and is exactly what landed us here – my testing of him (at least, that’s my guess as to what caused the large majority of the emotional strain).
I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to do any of this. I don’t want to be alive. I don’t want to be in this body which is entirely too large for my liking, and if i can’t have that relationship back then i have no interest in existing at all. I loathe myself so deeply for not having the skills to better communicate what i had to say that night – my fear and sadness ran so deep. This disorder – BPD – has slowly but surely infiltrated every aspect of my life. It will continue to until the day that i die, and i am assured at this point that i will never have relationships that are healthy AND existent. I’m abusive and manipulative, which is something that nobody deserves. It’s rooted in a deep seated form of dissociation, but i do…and it’s unfair to anybody i come across. It makes me loathe my very existence more than i can even express.
I had such high hopes for DBT helping me yet it never did. I did both rounds at the same center though, and i’m going to see if an IOP program can maybe do DBT. I’m aiming for the 3 days a week program as 5 days a week would take away from my homework and schoolwork, which is literally the only thing i care about in my life. Even my adoration for that is dwindling if not already completely dead, as i can’t find the energy as of recently to do things. It takes all my energy to go to class. So i’ve gone to my classes. Come back to my dorm. Watched tv and slept with the occasional blip here and there.
If we don’t fix things this spring i’m going to be devastated – i don’t know what i would do. Yet every time he talks to me we end up in conflict and it’s evident that i’m ruining things further, and i don’t know what to do. Damned if i do and damned if i don’t, so i’d rather not exist.
My urge to self harm has become so strong that i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it through the night without it. I contemplated destroying this phone so i had no way of talking to my ex. i looked through my phone for people i could hang out with – feeling as though social interaction would be a good source of empowerment and a good temporary distraction – to find that my 2 friends above are literally the only 2 people i have in my phone outside of bosses, doctor’s etc.
I’m losing it and i don’t know why i’m still alive when nobody seems to give a flying shit. Nobody is IN MY LIFE to give a shit.
My ex seems more content on manipulating me with his new found sense of boundaries (which i can tell you are bullshit – and that’s not a perspective thing….if you sit back and look at the logic they don’t make sense). My parents are avoiding me. I’m avoiding everybody because i don’t want to hurt anybody and it takes too much energy. Oh. But i still have the fucking time and energy to find food to shove down my throat. haha. Why am i still alive… this is something i’ve been thinking frequently about.
Why did i do this to myself? Why did i take the people i love and just continually abuse them to no end yet guilt and manipulate them into staying? Why am i such a fucking abusive asshole?
Staring at the hourglass, my life, it feels like a machine, Running with no direction
Watching time as it draws a perception obscene, From a resurrection
Choking on reality, the walls of my insides, they bleed, From the excess incisions
Drawn and quartered by the monster who pulls on the strings, From the core of me
Whoa, yeah I’m dying to see,What it is that is eating away at me
Now the stars are deciding my world, They burn from the inside out
Lies told and the flames burning all around, So blind to the beauty, you slave
But it feels like the walls are melting, facing into me
Have I lost track of time? Yeah! Why can’t I feel the burn?
Stop bleeding on the inside, we are alive
And it’s more than enough to paint the walls that are white
Can we show the ones who are blind?
It’s envy been eating away at the core of us
Wanting what you’ll never have
And isn’t it the point of living to breathe
Knowing this is all we get
It’s never greener inside the mess we’re in
Wanting what you’ll never have
The less we are content the more we throw away
What little time we have left to grow
Separate mind from hate
Punch through the unknown
And it will leave the little time we have
In all honesty, i don’t really know where to start with this. I want my followers to know enough about me to get a sense of who i am and what i live for, but at the same time i don’t want to compromise my anonymity. So please understand if i withhold specific details about myself.
I’m really passionate about mental health, as i’m studying psychology/neuropsychology. I’m about to graduate this summer, and i pride myself on the fact that i graduated in about four years, even though i was in the hospital last fall due to medication mishaps. I’m currently on a few psychotropic medications that are helpful, but i feel my best with a holistic lifestyle, which i’d like to turn to by the end of 2015 if at all possible. I”m not entirely sure it’s a possibility after a care accident this past fall, but i’d like to try.
I also have a growing interest in genetics/epigenetics, and anatomy. I find relief in running (which i haven’t done in a while due to my chaotic schedule), painting, music, and writing….which is why i’m starting up this blog. I have an incredibly hard time vocalizing my experiences and the things i need to say, yet for some reason i have absolutely no problem writing them to express them. So i’m using this blog as a stepping stone of sorts, in my attempts to become a healthier and more expressive individual.
I’m 22 years old, at the moment living with my boyfriend. I don’t really know if you would call him that – he calls himself my ‘life partner’ as he has a really idealistic view of our relationship. He’s in denial about how incompatible we are, and his narcissism. He cannot admit his own faults nor can he come to any sort of compromise. Time and time again he has shown me – though his actions and surely not through his words – that our relationship has no value to him. When the goin’ gets rough he has a tendency to minimize, and blame my mentality or me as a whole when i confront him. It’s frustrating, to say the least.
It may be a confirmation bias or it may be a reality, but i feel incredibly invalidated in my life. It seems to be a reoccurring theme for me. I grew up in a house riddled with it, and as i try to reach out for the neurological effects it seems as though i sustained due to the car accident i was in this past fall, i’m feeling the same. My emotions are so distorted….my reality is so distorted.
Where did my life go? I used to be such a vibrant, expressive, extroverted individual. My relationship with my ‘boyfriend’ – if you want to call him that for lack of a better word right now – has surely hampered me a great deal – but i can’t blame him for any of this for i was riddled with it when we started dating. I feel this sense of intrinsic sense of guilt, shame, and brokenness as if nobody else is going to come along and love me. I feel as though i’m inherently broken and nobody will come along and support me – a belief that has only been reinforced by the fact that during the worst of my episodes, my friends continually leave.
Our society is so contradictory in some senses. We take a step forward, yet at the same time take a step backwards. We make advances in mental health advocacy, and advances in psychopathology. We raise awareness of depression and anxiety resulting in an increase of diagnosis and treatment (arguably too much so…..), yet when it comes to other disorders- like the Borderline Personality Disorder i struggle with – those aren’t ‘main stream’ enough. People are accepting of things like depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, subtle forms of self injury, eating disorders in some forms, etc., but when it comes to personality disorders, people leave. To clarify – i’m not saying that people leave in situations that compromise their mental health either (which is understandable as i do the same and in fact i always encourage people to do such). People leave when the goin’ gets rough, and they don’t feel like dealing with things. Yet when THEY or somebody else they know gets depressed or anxious and things get complicated, they are more than willing to stay and work through things. It’s incredibly defeating.
I blame myself for my disorder a lot – a lot more than i should a majority of the time – and i’m trying to stop that. It’s hard to pry apart myself from the disorder, especially when the disorder is one of my personality.
Also, it’s worth mentioning that i struggle with eating disorders. I grew up with what was most likely Binge Eating Disorder. At the time no such diagnosis existed (at the time it was EDNOS, binge eating), nor was i formally diagnosed as i only started seeing doctors when i started restricting. I was triggered after seeing a pro-ana website which triggered me to develop EDNOS (restrictive), which eventually turned into Anorexia. I’m currently in some awkward limbo with that – i’ll make a post on it another day.
I’m usually a lot more articulate, but ever since my accident in the fall my ability to organize things and deal with executive functioning has gone way down. Thoughts get jumbled and when i have to deal with more than one thought process at once my brain goes into overdrive and shuts down. So i’m sorry that this introduction turned more so into a ramble.
tl dr: 22. Female. Senior in college studying psychology/neuropsychology. Artsy-fartsy. In a screwy relationship. Diagnosed with BPD/eating disorders. Feelinglonely Alone, but trying to get better, taking it one day at a time
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. (1 Peter 3:3-4)
Borderline Dissonance 