gotta figure it out

will i ever figure this out? i dunno, but as i'm sitting here in my lush bathrobe [christmas present :) ] i think that maybe i will. i mean today, i figured out something. maybe tomorrow i'll think its absolute shit, but today, it seems like a grand revelation. i've been getting angry at everyone because whenever i get sick, and its a sickness which if left alone could kill me, they do everything they can to get me better. i'm just screaming inside let me die already! and well, that's fucking stupid. i mean, i know those are my feelings and i'm allowed to feel them, but they are stupid. i mean, here i am surrounded by people that love me and want to help me and take care of me and i hate them for it? what a waste. i should be using this valuable resource to pull myself together. maybe it sounds wrong to refer to the people that love me as a resource, but thats what they are if you break it down. and not a lot of people are so fortunate to have such a great one. i mean i really do have a lot of friends and people who care about me...i know sometimes when i'm down i feel like they're all crap and they only pretend to like me, but thats just my craziness. i need to stop hating them for loving me, and using their love to help me. because baby i need help lol. i mean the power of a number of people has proven time and time again to be amazing. alone, each of these people couldn't do much for me. but together, as group, with all of their skills and connections etc combined, i might actually be able to get some shit figured out....like get on medication, that would be amazing. now i just have to figure out how to mobilize my troops :p

me vs the flesh

my mask is becoming even more flawless. i feel like a master of disguise. for a minute, even i believed it. even i thought that i was going to be okay, despite the fact that i was self-destructing. and then this morning, it all came crashing down. and even though inside i'm falling apart, mentally and physically, outside i will appear no such thing. i'm still fighting though. i'm trying to save myself, but i don't know how....all i know is destruction. i mean, i know right now, its not life or death, so if i get it wrong its not going to be that major. but in the moment, it still feels like ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmyfuckinggod. if that makes any sense. half of me is screaming i shouldn't be trying to fix me at all, to bring me back to life; i should've just stuck to mission number one no matter what. and the other half is saying you idiot you shouldn't be doing what you're doing to yourself in the first place. and you know, the sad thing is, i don't feel i've gone that far, compared to numerous other occasions. but apparently my body does. and as much as i am at war with it, i have to start listening to it. i have to. no you don't bitch, just let that disgusting piece of flesh fall apart you don't need it.  .....i'll probably be just fine in a few hours, once i've calmed down. but right now, ....  is the right thing always the thing that means life? i don't know, and i'm scared. that i did too much. that i didn't do enough.

mirror, mirror, on the wall

i can't stand my own reflection. it's hideous. revolting. and sometimes, i find it so disgusting that i start to think that getting thinner won't change it, it won't make me any more beautiful. and when i get on that train of thought, i just think 'well what's the point in trying at all, if i'm going to be hideous either way?'.  but you know what, its better to be ugly and thin than ugly and fat.  as much as right now, and a lot of times, i feel like there is nothing that could redeem my looks, thin is always better than fat.  maybe i won't be any more beautiful when i'm skinny. but it certainly can't make me uglier. and that's what i have to remember, so i don't give up. i refuse to be fat anymore. ugly is bad enough, but fat and ugly is double shit. i refuse to be that girl.

who will be there?

so i'm sure that everyone has thought about it. your own funeral. i've been thinking about mine, because i feel like it will be soon. and for a little bit, i thought it would be fairly well-attended. but i've revised that theory. yes, i have a lot of people who i care about, but that doesn't mean they reciprocate. just because i love everyone doesn't mean everyone loves me. although i have a great deal of good friends, there are very few who will go out of their way for me, and i think that if they won't go out of their way while i am here, then they probably won't go out of their way to attend my funeral. but then people are weird about death, so who knows. but i would imagine that my mother and sisters would be there, a fair number of my coworkers, and then like ten friends. and maybe some extended family. maybe. not that i really care too much about any of this. its just morbid curiosity. i know it doesn't really matter. because i'll never actually know what goes down after i'm dead. because i'll be dead. but thinking about this sort of thing, it helps you to be aware that your death affects people outside of yourself. its easy to get wrapped up in yourself and forget that. but i know that when i go, i'll be taking something away from a lot of people. something that they need. and i feel awful for that.  

here i am, stuck in the middle with you

life

death

somewhere in between

tangled here

dangled here

a half-life i lead

i cannot leave

i cannot stay

shakily balanced

life a bite

death a breath

away

....

yeah i wrote that yesterday...there was more, but it just didn't fit, it seems complete where it is. in an incomplete way. and i just wanted to put it out there, even though it really has nothing to do with today, well maybe it does i don't know, i haven't searched for connections, i'm just going. anyways....today is a good day to die. yep. thats what i've been thinking all morning. lovely thought right? i was supposed to be at work, but i just felt so mental. like i couldn't handle pasting on my smile and pretend like every second i didn't wanna take someones shears and stab/slice/cut myself until i was nothing but a bloody dead mess. maybe it would've been better if i had gone to work, better for my job and my mind. who can say. all i can say is, the thought of going on like this, however long my natural life will be, is incredibly ...wow. there isn't even a word for how awful it is to think of that. just wow. i've gone nine months, but i have forever left ahead...its so daunting, i just...how does one find the fortitude to go on? day after day, hell on repeat.

i feel so silly. it seems like every other day, its either life vs death or food vs emptiness. which are essentially the same battles. of course, at this point, because i am obviously typing this out right now, life and food are winning. but its still a battle every day, and i don't know which side to root for. i am team life, i am team death.  no matter which team wins, there is going to be a loser. as long as life wins though, there will only be one loser. if team death wins, there will be (not to flatter myself) many many losers. 

today is a good day to die. as good as any. but i will fight, i keep my promises dammit. 

a lackluster celebration

thank goodness its december. november was hell. i am so glad that it's over. you have no idea. and i just realized today, that it is exactly nine months since my last attempt, the one that put me in the hospital. nine months. thats a long time, considering. i feel quite accomplished. i mean, i still want to be dead and all, but i promised that i wouldn't kill myself, and i haven't. i haven't tried once. i've hurt myself yes, but thats another barrel of monkeys. and i've come close many many times. so that's what makes me feel like this is something to be proud of. i know that nine months usually isn't the time that you celebrate something, its usually six months, a year, five years, etc. but i still want to do something. this is a big deal. it really is, and i want to reward myself. i just can't think of what to do. i don't want to go out and spend money on myself, cause then i'll just feel super guilty for spending money on myself. and i don't want to reward myself with food because we all know how terrible that would be. i just don't know how to commemorate this momentous occasion. so i'll prolly do nothing but be really proud of myself for once. lame. and it doesn't really make me feel rewarded, but its all i've got right now.

licorice blood on my hands

i think that everyone has some sort of internal moral code, these boundaries that they dare not cross. to cross such a line would be wrong. i crossed such a line tonight. and that scares me a little bit. because i feel like, every time i've crossed a line in the past, there was no going back. i asked a 'normal' friend what she felt when she crossed a line and she said she felt like the worst person ever and never did it again. but for me its like shaving your legs, once you've done it, you've got to keep doing it. yeah, maybe theres a little period like in the winter where nobody sees your legs where you can skip it, but theres no going back to your unshaven self. you are forever a leg shaver. i'm pretty sure that was one of the worst examples ever, but what the heck, i feel like hell and thats the best i can do right now.  ....so anyways, i crossed a line, and yeah i'm a little scared. because obviously it was something that i felt was really wrong. thats why it was crossing a line. and even though i know i crossed a line (yep i'm saying those three words a lot, but i don't know how else to phrase it sorry), i feel like i will do it again. because now i know that i can do it. and because i can do it, if i need to do it, i almost have to do it. but i think at this point, i am getting so vague and rambly, its best i just finish it up. 

in summation, there is (licorice) blood on my hands, and i don't mind it...i'd do it again.

dangerous promises and my friend death

so i've been vacillating a lot. in the morning i'll be all doom-and-gloom and ready to kill myself, and by the afternoon, i'll be all you-can-do-this. its not always in the morning and afternoon, but you know what i mean. anyways.....and then, on one of my wonderful miles-long-treks to or from work in the foot or whatever of snow, i said something to myself that really helped. i said, 'if i'm going to live, i'm going to live thin'. and that sounds silly, saying it outloud, because how is 'living thin' going to make me stop wanting death every other second? well let me attempt to explain. when you're living thin, you are holding death's hand. i'm being semi-literal here. your body starts shutting down, and you can feel it. you know what's happening. and those things, those are like caresses from death to me. because i sometimes view death as an ever present companion, like a shadow. we all have one, but you don't always see it. and thinness allows it to get close to you. you can see your death, be friends with your death, and maybe someday, if you do it right, your death with take you away from your imperfect body. all of this is quite comforting to me. so deciding that, saying i'm going to live thin is a great help in stopping my suicide ideation. of course, it will take a while to get it right, and get to the point where i am holding my death's hand...but working towards that will give me something else to focus on, something else to get me through the day other than a dangerous promise that i can kill myself when i get home, or when nobody is home etc. 

something different

i've been doing a lot of thinking, because i just can't seem to shake this binge-starve-binge cycle. so i've been thinking about how things were before it was this bad. and i realized that i was a different person. so much has happened, and so much about me and how i see the world and myself has changed. so i can't go back to that place where it wasn't so extreme. but since i have changed so much to get to this point, i figure i can change some more to get someplace better. if that makes any sense. so i'm trying something different. instead of making rules and timelines etc like i usually do, i'm just going to try and be how i want to be. we'll see how that goes. but i think its a good place to start. and hopefully it'll start something different.

how absurd

i know this is going to sound absurd, it sounds absurd when i say it in my head. i'm so fat, i'm crushing myself. yep. absurd. but its true, thats what it feels like.  when i lie in bed (i generally lie on my side) i can feel it the most. and i'm really heavy and it hurts. and sometimes i can't even breath, like my lungs are being crushed. i know i sound crazy, but this is serious real physical pain here. and it used to be just when i was lying down to sleep at night, but now its started to feel that way all the time. and its kinda freaking me out. i mean this doesn't seem right. i mean i don't think its an actual thing, that you can be in the "healthy" bmi range and be so fat you're crushing yourself. so i have to wonder if there is actually something medically wrong here, or if i'm just becoming psychotic and delusional. and either way, what am i supposed to do? i don't have money to get medical help. and how would i explain this to any doctor so that they would be able to tell which? because i know in the way i'm explaining it now, anyone would jump to the conclusion of psychotic and delusional...but this is the only thing...and usually when people with bipolar have psychotic episodes they are grandiose, and there is none of that. ....i just want to go out in the rain/sleet/snow/whatever precipitation is going on outside and melt like the wicked witch of the west. just have all of this horrible heavy flesh disappear, and me too. 

the sea of swirly twirly thoughts

so i've been thinking about what i would say to this friend to convince her not to give up. and the thing is, the more i think about it, the more i go 'why the fuck am i even trying?!'....i can't answer that question besides to say that i made a promise and i keep my promises. but hell, promises are broken every day, so why should a promise be what i try for. what i get out of bed for....it just doesn't seem like it balances out to me. so i'm getting back into where i'm thinking i really want to break that promise and just give up. and of course, thats not good....i mean by practically anyones standards, suicide ideation is crossing a certain line. its just not okay. i mean when i was younger, i felt that. it felt wrong to me, i wanted it but it felt wrong. and now, somethings different. it doesn't feel so wrong anymore....it feels like its right for me. ....so how can i tell someone that i love, someone that i want to be honest with, that giving up is wrong and they shouldn't do it? 

just like you

so i found out a couple days ago that my really good friend who i was going to live with in a few months (of course thats off now) was lying about being in recovery and is now hospitalized. and i've been really struggling with that, because i love her so so much and i just want her to be happy and healthy, but here i am hating myself and trying to destroy myself just like her.  what right do i have to be upset? i don't think i have one, being the way that i am...i mean as someone that loves her and (because she pushed everyone away)  as her only friend, i do have a right to be upset/worried right now. i know this....but i'm not exclusively those things. i'm also a kindred spirit. i know why she's doing what she's doing. i understand, i want what she wants, i feel what she feels. and i don't just know this because of the situation she's in, i know this because we are so close and we've talked about these things many times, and although we are different kinds of crazy, we are the same.  and it somehow feels wrong of me to be upset that she's doing exactly what i dream of doing. pushing everyone away, holding death so close.  the friend in me has me questioning what i do now, saying "do you really want to put everyone through this again, just like her? do you want everyone to feel the worry/pain/sadness that you feel now?"....but the rest of me doesn't care. i'm not her, this isn't the same. ....this going back and forth is making me nuts

up, down.....puts me in the mood...for food

i was all excited, that i'm doing something i feel like i can stick to, that i can break the whole binge-starve cycle. but then today i wake up and magically weigh half a pound more than i did yesterday....i hate my body, how it can do that to me. i didn't do anything wrong. anything that should cause that to happen. but it did. and now seeing the number go up, well its quite discouraging, and makes a girl just want to eat everything. so today is not going to be as easy as i thought. its going to be a long day of mentally talking myself out of throwing the towel in just because i had a small unexplained/unexpected gain. i have to go to work, where there will be food, and i have to go out and socialize where there will be even more food, and highly caloric beverages. and i don't even get to walk today. grr.  i know though, that i can rise to the challenge and stick to the rules. i can and i will. 

but this is still fucking bullshit.

too much of the wrong thing

so i'm watching this documentary on food, which of course i do all the time. really, that wasn't sarcasm. i watch them as often as i can get my hands on them. back on topic....so in this documentary, they were giving large numbers of deaths caused by heart disease, etc that people in the us are dying from because of our terrible diets.  and all i could think about while all those deaths were being marched in front of my eyes was, "why aren't i lucky enough to be one of those numbers?"....not the normal reaction i know. generally, someone would think, "my god, thats awful, we must do something"...or some such like that. i intended to watch the documentary to learn more about food, and develop a better diet plan, but instead all i could think about was geez, maybe i should get fat and then i'll keel over no problem.   being that i loathe fat/flesh so much, that would be a difficulty for me. so i'm going to re-watch the film and try not to focus on how to kill myself, but how to feed myself. 

and to sort of be complete, i'm looking for info, because my restrictive diet failed, or rather i failed it. i have spent days six and seven eating everything. so yeah, i'm rethinking it. because i need to stop this back and forth shit. eventually i'll get superfat from it, and its making me really really unhealthy, but not in a way that will kill me anytime soon, just in a way thats really really annoying. i mean, i remember, i used to have to sit a certain way for a long time before my feet or arms or whatever would fall asleep. now i sit for a few minutes and my legs are crawling with ants (by that i means the tingling sleepy numb feeling) so i have to shift. see, really really annoying. but its not going to kill me. 

its just so hard, i feel all of this pressure....i know that i'm putting it on myself, but that doesn't make it any less....i need to find the right diet and i need to find it now. and it has to be the perfect one. i can't say why the urgency, its just there. saying nownownownownownownow.

shut your face

i feel so weak today. i can hear candy and cookies and waffles and calories galore calling my name. saying 'eat me rachel, eat me, you know you want to'....i just want them to shut the fuck up. leave me alone goddamn it. i don't want you cookies of candy...i don't want any more calories. but i can hear them calling and i feel my resolve weakening, i really do. they whisper, 'you can just eat less tomorrow to make up for it, its okay.'  no. i don't want you and i don't need you. leave me alone. stop talking to me and tempting me. just go away. 

yeah, its one of those days....

how long can you go?

i'm trying really hard to break my binge-starve-binge cycle, and i settled on restricting as the best method to do so. i tried to eat normally and i just found myself binging every single day. so i know that won't work. and i've tried restriction before, but it always felt like too much. the number was too high, and i just kept eating. but i've stuck to this for five days, so far so good. i'm trying to go thirty days without being a disgusting pig who eats everything in sight. i can't even think of the last time i went a whole thirty days without binging....its been a long time. so it'll be a big accomplishment. which will hopefully snowball into bigger accomplishments. i want this so much, and i'm trying so hard, i don't see how i can not succeed. i mean, i've been going out and people have been giving me drinks and food and candy, and i've still not gone above my limit once. i know that the longer i go, the harder it will become, but i feel in some way, it will be easier, because this habit of binging is going to be broken. maybe not completely. i know these things take time. but i just feel like i can change this. i just have to be as stubborn about this as i am about everything else. i have say i will and not budge. perhaps if i try hard enough, i can resist the urge forever...

she's so hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh...

i'm really considering becoming an alcoholic, or taking up some other substance abuse. i mean i feel like i'm high most of the time anyways now, i might as well enjoy it right? that sounds weird, but let me explain. when i get out of control, and by out of control i mean when i am not in control of myself and how i feel and what i do, it feels trippy and like i'm on some sort of drug because it feels so unreal. its hard to explain. i hope that was adequate. anyways i don't like it. so i figure if i actually get something to alter my state of mind, maybe i will start to enjoy this...and also destroy myself like i love to do. finally, a scenario that sounds like a win-win. of course it sounds better than it really is. as much as i want to destroy myself and feel something better than this, i won't do that. i want to, but i won't. so i guess i wasn't ever really considering it. its just another one of my dark fantasies that i spend hours mulling over. ah, my mind is such a magical place....

taming lions

i'm losing control. i can feel it slipping every day. i can't tell you exactly how, i just feel it. and it feels like if i don't hold onto control, i'll consume the world. implode, sucking everything in with me.  so i'm trying to keep control in any way i can. and i'm becoming quite ocd. i mean, when i'm walking i cannot step on a crack. and if i think i'm going to, i hold my breath until i'm clear of the ever-so-dangerous crack. i'm sure i look pretty ridiculous. and i really don't know what else to do. i don't. its scary, when you feel yourself slipping away. what can you really do to stop it? all i can think to do is create a rigid routine and stick to it like my life depends on it. but of course i'm going so fast, i'm not succeeding at that, i'm just succeeding at being freakishly obsessive about things that really don't matter (like how i arrange/eat my pickles...i almost hit my sister for taking a slice and 'messing it up').  and to top it off, i'm having schizo dreams. ....i don't know how much longer i can keep my tenuous grip...

in all seriousness....

people don't take me seriously. i just realized that. or rather, was told so recently. and pondered it...of course after being pissed of for a while. i mean nobody wants to hear that they aren't taken seriously [and the way it was done was totally douche-y and totally uncool]. but i realize that its true. most people don't take me seriously. and its probably because eighty percent [random estimate] of what i do and say in front of people is not serious. but about the other twenty percent i am deadly serious, and it hurts not to have people recognize that. when you try and say something serious and then people laugh as if you were kidding. it sucks. but i kinda set myself up for it. so can i really blame them? no. i can't. because if theres a way to put the blame on me, i will do it. so i've done it. its my fault that people don't take me seriously. 

pause.

wtf is going on.....okay, you know those weird pictures that you have to stare at really close and then slowly back away from so you see the 3d picture in it? and then afterwards, you vision is a little tweaked....well i'm tweaked like that right now, and i have certainly not been looking at any weird pictures....its just one of those i feel high with no drugs moments....calorie high maybe? not sleep deprivation. or could be one of those weird auras...yes thats it [how retarded am i that i forget what something is that i go through all the time]. fuck that means i'm going to have a real bitch soon. grr.

back on point...

do i really want to be taken seriously? most of the time not really. if they take you seriously, they look closer at you. and that gets dangerous. as we know, intimate looks into rachel do not turn out well. i'm such a fool, i've fooled myself....repeatedly. i'm always convinced i have these walls around me that nobody can penetrate and that they can't hurt me, but they do every day. and i let them. because its easier [safer] than the alternative.

resisting temptation

ugh. i really hate life. a lot. i'm sitting here the morning after a superfun night of karaoke and other awesome things, and i should be loving it. there is something severely wrong with me. well i guess that was already established. but it never ceases to amaze me. i mean here i am, this fun, pretty, young woman surrounded by people that love me and still all i want is death. all i want is for all of it to just go away. actually for me to just go away from all of it. every day that gets more and more appealing. you think the appeal would be diminishing not growing. how long can one resist something that grows in appeal every day? i mean its like they expect me to be superwoman.  if they had any opportunities to get the one thing they want most in the world, i'm sure they would take them. who could help themselves? but i'm supposed to say no all of the time. bullshit.

when left is right

so i've been trying the new approach, and i like it. because i'm still hurting myself, so i'm still fulfilling my need to punish myself and make myself suffer, but its not ruining everything as much. instead of binging when i felt like not eating, i just didn't eat. and my waistline thanks me. instead of drinking too much when i really didn't feel like drinking, i didn't drink. and i felt good, but excluded being the only sober one so i was still getting punished. i haven't felt like cutting myself or anything like that, so we'll see how that goes when i get there. but so far, this going with the initial impulse is good. it makes me feel more in control somehow. which i know, seems ridiculous because giving into impulse is like the opposite of control, but thats how it feels. but we'll see how this works long term...i've only been really doing it for a week. it was hard to start doing. so i'm sure it'll be hard to continue. but i'm sure i'm up to the task. after all, i am superwoman :p

another angle

today was crisis mode. well i guess every day that i'm left alone with myself is crisis mode. but it just brought up another thing that bugs me. i'm kind of an extremist. i can't find the good middle ground. whenever i feel the urge to do something destructive, i go overboard in the other direction to keep myself from doing that thing; when i want to starve myself, i force a binge (as i did today). when i want to cut myself, i make my body hurt in various other ways. and in the end, almost every time, i would be better off giving in to my initial urges. so thats the approach i'm going to try from now on. i actually think it might be good for me. relatively speaking that is. i'm not completely insane. i realize that almost nothing i do in regards to myself is healthy, but some things are less so than others. maybe i don't have to turn every second into a monumental battle. maybe sometimes it can just be a small skirmish.  maybe i don't have to punish myself for things i've only thought about. maybe i can do those things and punish myself later. we'll see how this new approach works...         

girl on the verge

thats what i am. i feel like i'm always on the verge of something. just waiting for something to stop me from totally  going overboard. maybe i'm already over and i don't know it. because i feel like i've been teetering for a long time now, yet i feel so much closer to falling the more that time goes by....but in my head, i still tell myself that i haven't fallen. that i could pull back from the edge anytime i wanted, if only i wanted. that i haven't gone too far.....i am in control. but am i? am i really in control of myself? or have i again deluded myself to that fact? how do you really even know? my first instinct would be to consult someone for an outside perspective, but i don't really have an inclination to do so. i don't want to tell people all that i feel i'm on the precipice of. and they would rather not hear it. i guess i won't really be able to tell till i've smashed head first into the ground and i'm all twisted and mangled and theres nothing anybody can do. which, in a sick way is comforting. that maybe i can destroy myself, without actively breaking any promises.  it'll be like humpty dumpty. if you sit on a narrow wall, eventually you're going to fall. and when you're as fragile as an egg, well that'll be the end

 ....and all the kings horses and all the kings men, couldn't put humpty together again.

slice slice baby....

as always, today was a wonderful day filled with joy and smiles. not. i spent a good part of the day holding onto a sharp knife and trying to convince myself that i should not give in to the urge to mutilate myself with it. i really wanted to make myself bleed. but because that is against the rules, and i suck at it anyways, i settled for slapping myself with a knife. and of course that just infuriated me more, because i don't bruise very easily. so even though i was whapping the hell out of myself, to the point where large sections of my body were completely numb, i have nothing to show for it. which i guess is a good thing, if i want to 'get away with it' and not have anyone know. but i really don't give a damn about that. i just wanna see my body punished. and i can't make it bleed, so i thought i'd try bruising it. but apparently thats too difficult for a stupid head like me as well. godfuckingshitdamnfuck! everything is out the window and it sucks. i can't stab/slice myself. i can't starve myself. and now i can't hit myself. and burning things in the house is not allowed, so i can't burn myself either. i don't know how to make my body suffer any other way. and thats just something i need to do from time to time. i mean, it attacks me on a daily basis, so some retaliation is necessary. i mean, i could do anything i wanted to my body, but i won't. because i'm a woman of my word. and because i really don't want to fuck my metabolism any more. ugh, i just have to find something. i don't wanna do sleep deprivation, because i'm delirious enough as it is, and doing that while trying to keep a job is not good. i'll admit i could do over exercising, but i've never really had the heart for that one. i mean its just something that is (for the most part) so good for you. and i don't want to do my body good. i mean over exercising would hurt me in the long term, not the short term. and my battles against my body are very short term. i probably need to change that. i need to be in this for the long haul. because thats what wins wars. and i really am in a war against my body. it has destroyed me, and i want to return the favor. without being a fat slob dying of a heart attack, because i just hate fat too much for that one. sometimes, i have the urge to surf the internet to find a weirdo who would do it for me.   god i just wanna be in a time like in futurama where they have suicide booths and for change you can have the death you've always wanted...god i hate myself for always being there no matter what....i need to be selfish dammit. i need to just forget about everyone else (like everyone else does) and do what i want with my life. which is destroy it. but i won't, at least not for a while, because i can't abandon those i love. yet. fuck me.  

even in clear view

so i was talking to a friend tonight who was pretty down. apparently one of her old friends had recently committed suicide. of course i didn't have much to say in response to that. i mean, what do you say to someone when they tell you that someone they cared about is dead? i think its an awkward situation for a lot of people. so my initial response was "thats sad news". literally thats what i said. i know, i'm so sympathetic right? her response? "....she was always so happy and wonderful". god that bullshit pisses me off. happy people don't kill themselves. if you know that person as "happy and wonderful", you don't really know that person. so how can you say you truly care and their death truly saddens you if you don't truly know them? i mean i know when someones dead, you just want to remember the good parts, but honestly, speaking as someone who has been there many times, and is very close to people who have also been there a time or two, if you're ready to end you're life you're not a person who could be described as 'happy and wonderful', at least not by someone who truly knows you. you aren't so bubby and then one day out of the blue, 'i think i'll kill myself'. no you have to get there, it takes a while. you have to get quite low. and some people hide that lowness from everyone and it seems like theyre still that happy and wonderful person, but thats fake. thats not who they really are, they are censoring themselves like i do every day. part of me hates myself right now for going off on this rant when my friend is in pain....but most of me is pissed off. i can't be sympathetic in this type of situtation. i know its biased of me. i didn't know the woman, and maybe she was the exception. maybe she was sooo happy and just decided for kicks to end it. but i highly doubt it. i'm not sure why i get so frustrated, but the way people respond to death most of the time irks me. 

i just feel like, if you didn't know someone, really know them and love them, you don't have the right to be so put out by their death. it just seems wrong to me, to pretend after their death that they meant something to you. i mean maybe in your mind they did mean a lot....but obviously it wasn't enough or you would've been let in to see the pain. you wouldn't be going, "but i don't understand, she was so happy". but then again, i don't suppose people kill themselves because they are so surrounded with support and understanding. 

jesus i feel like a bitch. i mean someone is dead. and i don't feel any sympathy. i feel anger, for unjustified grief, and i feel jealousy. i wish that were me. 

i feel like such a wonderful human being right now....

you never noticed me

i love that song by saosin :)

but its also how i feel right now. i mean i don't put any effort into hiding how fucked up i am with food. i put effort into hiding other things, but i've never really tried to hide that. but nobody noticed. i gain/lose 20lbs every other month and nobody notices. on my petite frame, thats quite a lot of weight. shit, on anyone thats quite a bit. i even tell people that i'm weird with food etc. they know, they've been informed, and they've observed. but they still don't notice. and its not that they do and they just don't say anything. they for reals don't see. and its because they don't see me. they see the me they want to see, the one they expect to see. like when you read those messed up sentences that are spelled completely wrong, your mind arranges it they way it thinks its supposed to be so that you can understand it, even though thats not what it really is. 

i'm not gonna force them to notice me. i'm  just going to leave them alone with their sugar coated memories.

the genuine article, or not

i woke up good today. i didn't cry, i didn't pause to think about anything, i just did, and it felt good. but one second of inactivity, and it all bubbled to the surface and i wanted to destroy and emote and that was all there was....so i think that i can never be real. because to be real means to be something/someone that is unacceptable and will not last. i just have to keep all of me buried as long as i live, thats the only way i can live. and i really dislike that. dislike isn't even strong enough of a word. i would rather live no life than a fake life. but i can't not live. i don't break promises. so this is what i must do. i must be artificial. unreal. fake. anything genuine or honest must be suppressed.   ......and this is really what they want from me. if they heard me explain it in this way, they of course would deny it. but make no mistake, this is absolutely what they want. they would rather me have ended my life than have me live a real life. nobody likes the truth of me, thats not the me they love and asked to live. the illusion of me is what they want, and so they shall receive.

you know you're insane when...

this is another reason i know i'm insane: tonight after having a b-move romantic comedy marathon with myself instead of drugging myself into sleep, i decided hey, not only do i believe in love but i am in love. i know its bullshit and that i'm just delirious right now. i just sorta brainwashed myself with all of this sappy bullshit....i am not really in love, but for now i have this little melodramatic love story playing out in my head in where i have already found the one but tragically will never be with him because i'm not going to burden him with my insanity when he already has to take care of the rest of the world; he deserves someone who he can lean on. ugh i need to stop taking such bad care of myself and making myself even worse. ugh. thats why if my melodrama weren't a figment of my imagination i couldn't burden him with my love....because i can't even take care of myself. maybe i should give up trying and go live on the mountain with my mother........fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck....

oh my god, oh you think i'm in control

maybe i should just check myself into a psych ward....i mean i'm not harming myself too bad right now, but i don't know how much longer i can hold that off. smoking and drinking and unbalanced eating can only get me so much destructive satisfaction. but medical care is so expensive, and i'm already in a hole i don't know if i'll ever get out of, how the fuck am i supposed to pay for round the clock treatment, short term or otherwise?!   ......curse america and its lack of healthcare options.  i really am trying to keep my promise. but everywhere there is temptation.....you know how many ways there are to die? a lot. you know the sad thing? even though my short time as a psych patient sucked, i feel like going into treatment would be a sort of vacation. i wouldn't have to smile and pretend the world is full of sunshine and rainbows....i could be as dark as i am.....but of course only for a time, because i would have to 'get better' and 'see' the sunshine and rainbows....shit now that i'm really thinking about it, i'm sure going into treatment would be the same hell my life is right now. goddamn it. another fantasy smashed to bits by cold cold reality. i just want to put someone else in control, ya know? like it'd be so nice for once to stop trying to control myself (which is pretty much as hard as solving a derivative)....to stop fighting my body and just be with it, and have someone worry about what it does. or rather what i  do. so that settles it: i'm not checking into anywhere, and i'm not  dying....yet.

no picket fence for me

all the time i get told i'm too pessimistic, that i need to look at the bright side. but let me clue you in to what i really am....you know, i wasn't born at the bottom, but i quickly fell there when my parents divorced...which was when i was two or three. so you can almost say i was born there. and i've always been there. i mean yeah, some times have been better than others, but ultimately i am a shit out of luck sorry piece of shit. someone who if something happens, i'm fucked. if i get sick, well i'm fucked. something gets broken or stolen, i'm fucked. because sadly healthcare is an extraneous expense that i just don't have the budget for, as are repairs and replacements for possessions. even if those possessions are deemed 'essential' my most of modern society. and in america, they sell this dream that if you work hard you can achieve anything you want. but i'm not fucking buying. i know better...and its sad, because everyone around me (besides a few in my shoes) is telling me how wrong and cynical i'm being. but really, they're the fools who have bought into the bullshit propaganda. i don't want to go into a tirade of how the rich conspire to keep the poor down, but i know with every part of me that i will never get that american dream (aka lie). because its a fucking dream. dreams aren't real. so i'm poor and fucked, and unless some rich prince or some kind of miracle comes and rescues me from that situation, i will always be that way. i'm not a cynic. i'm not a pessimist. i can just see through all of the bullshit. so fuck off.

put the mask back on, don't take it off till everybody's gone

so i went on my trip, enjoyed life (for the most part) and now i'm back to reality. and i thought maybe seeing my best friend who i rarely see (like seeing her twice in the last two years is A LOT) and having a blast with her in vegas would give me some positive energy for a while. was i ever wrong. the minute i left all the happiness disappeared. so i thought maybe making myself be social and see my friends would help me recover some of that. god no. i spent the whole time screaming inside. because i hated them. i mean yeah, i can say i had fun. but i only had fun because i forced myself to. i put on that mask and i lived in it. sometimes, my mask feels seamless, and i can be that happy person in the moment. but not yesterday. i was so aware i was wearing it.....i HATED all of them. not only did i want to kill myself, i wanted to take them with me. okay, only for a little while. for the most part i just honestly couldn't get myself to care. there was nothing there. those people didn't matter to me. all i wanted to do was get away from them....so you know me, in the spirit of punishing myself, i made myself stay.  you know, usually when i stop caring about the people i love, i start to worry because i know thats a really bad thing. but i'm not worried at all....and maybe thats a sign that its even worse than its been before. i don't know. all i know is, inside nothing matters and i'm okay with that. unfortunately that doesn't mean i'm actually going to quit life. i'm still going to get up every day and go to work and attempt [and possibly succeed] doing homework and do all of the necessary things to get to the next day. because thats what i do. whats expected. what people want from me. i hardly ever do what i want. but i really don't know how much longer i can feel like a zombie and still look like little miss sunshine.

this letters written itself inside-out again

i'm there again. i was getting to the point where i didn't think about it every day, but i'm there again. death. it seems the only way out. i look at everything and think, 'how could that kill me'. i write and re-write suicide notes in my head. i just feel like if someone were to come up to me and point a gun in my face, i wouldn't be scared, i would rejoice. i would be happy, because it would finally be the end. and i know, objectively speaking, that all of this is unhealthy and i should seek help blah blah blah. but i really don't want to. i don't think there's anything that anyone can help with. there is no hope for me. i mean, what can somebody really do? they can't get me medication, and even if they could, they could only get me medication to stabilize my moods. there are no medications that have worked to stop my migraines. and its not like they're going to erase all of my debt or take care of any of my other problems. the only help anyone can really offer is emotional support, and thats not gonna get me through the next fifty years, or how ever long i have left. i'll just wake up tomorrow, and wish i didn't (again), walk to work while fantasizing about jumping in front of cars, work while wishing i could somehow get a fatal injury, and then walk home and repeat. isn't life beautiful?

a fairytale that isn't coming true

i want to be anyone but me. not because i think that everyone else has it so much easier than me. i know that a lot of people have it worse than me. but they have different problems. different lives. different bodies. and you know, that would be nice. to have different problems. i feel like my life is the song that never ends. it’s the same hell over and over and over and over and, you get the idea. the thing i would like most is a different body. that would be loveliest change. not because of looks. on good days i find my looks quite pleasing. like a doll, all smooth skin, big eyes, and a tiny mouth. it’s the insides that i mind. the bipolar disorder, the chronic migraines, and all the other lovelies. the constantly being in pain and out of control, yet having to appear neither in order to survive in this fucked up society and i’m suddenly craving a [veggie] burger…god i need drugs see? so,being me isn’t exactly the bees knees or whatever.  and i know, based on current medical data, and my own studies and experience, that its going to be like this my entire life and the only thing that will change that is medication. so i either need to be drugged up 24/7, or out of my mind ………its actually a bit of a toss up. its not like these drugs take me on a fun trip. they just help make me more boring and functional. that sounds super exciting…gag me. so many people try and point out to me all of the lovely things that i have in this life, the things that should make me want to hold onto it desperately. like people who love me. aww that’s sweet, but love doesn’t pay the bills. love doesn’t go out and work for me when i’m too mental to leave the house. what else do they say…ah yes, that it will get better. yeah, and someday my prince will come. life is not a disney movie. sometimes there are happy endings, but mostly there are ordinary or even awful endings.  so yeah, right now i don’t want to be me. would you?

gummy gummy gummy bear

today me and my sister/roomie went to the store, and she was grocery shopping and i was just picking up a few essentials like shaving cream. but we got to the candy aisle, and she was all like 'hey lets treat ourselves and get some candy!' and i don't want her to think that i'm not eating, and i don't want to encourage her ana behaviors (she has an ed) so i said sure and we bought a 3lb bag of gummy bears (it was a steal). so that we wouldn't eat it all at once, we divided the gummies into small portions in ziplock bags. and i took one of the bags to 'eat' while i went downstairs and did my homework. and while i was online doing my coursework i looked up the nutrition info etc and saw that hey, maybe i could try to eat a few because it wouldn't be so bad.[i know i'm still on my fast, but my stomach is growling like mad now no matter how much water i drink and people are starting to notice so i though maybe this would help that]  i put one in my mouth and started to chew and it was like the absolute hardest thing in the world to eat it, and i could not do it. i had to spit it out. one gummy bear. and i love sugar. i love candy. so i'm kind of scared. i never thought it would become so difficult to eat one thing. but i said whatever it takes, and i meant it.

hump day

so even though i've quite enjoyed this fast, i'm glad that i'm gonna start eating soon. because i tried to go for a jog this morning, and after half a block my body became all stiff and it felt like it was gonna give out on me then and there. and i love exercising. so its gonna be nice to have a little more energy to do so. i really wanted to jog or something because i want to do everything i can to keep my metabolism up, cause its slowing down. i only lost .2lbs yesterday. .2lbs for fucks sake. that makes me .6lbs away from my goal. so i have through friday to get it up enough to lose that measly .6lbs. it feels a little ridiculous. 

i will make this happen.

and everyone wants to feed me

i feel soooo great. and i think its because i'm finally cycling out of my depression into hypomania or mania. so even though i've been living on water, i have soo much energy and i fucking love it. if i feel like this every day, finishing out this fast is gonna be a breeze. i'm just worried about coming off of it. because the last day is friday, and then i was going to slowly add food, but i have a bbq saturday, and i can't not eat because they are making sure to have veggie burgers just for me. and then sunday one of my coworkers is specially making veggie stuffed peppers for me, so i have to eat then. and i don't wanna get off my fast and just start stuffing my face, so i'll have to tread very lightly i think....

just a little bit....

so i'm over the halfway point. i'm on day twelve of my twenty day fast. go me :) i tested myself by cooking food for others (3 times) and each time i was able to gracefully refuse to eat. now i just have to pass the second test, going out (tomorrow night eeek). my weight loss has already started slowing down, but i know it will pick up now that i'm going back to work and i'm going to be walking the 3miles there and then home again. exercise always helps me speed up weight loss. so hopefully i will reach 108 before the fast is over....that would just make me soooo happy. i'm so close to it. 112 right now. which is still disgusting. for me, anything above 108 is loathesome and unacceptable. i keep looking in the mirror, to see if i see a difference yet, and i really can't. i still see loads and loads of flesh and thats all i see. i have a long way to go before i see my beautiful bones. but i know i have the strength to get there. i will do this.

lies lies lies yeah

so yesterday i got sent home from work after two hours because i was vomiting. i told them all that i thought i caught something at the lake the day before, but the truth is that i know its from not eating for several days, and then taking too many laxies. so i've laid of the laxies and hopefully i will make it through work today and i will tell them the lovely lie "it must have been a 24hr bug". but everything i'm feeling makes me feel good inside, because i know its all taking me to my goal. i've already lost four pounds. only about twenty more to go lol. well eight till my first goal. i will be at most 108 by the time i go to vegas. my friends that i am going with are so slim, i refuse to be the fleshy friend. i know i have the strength to do this. i've suffered worse pain, and without any reward. i'm fasting for thirteen more days for sure. and then we'll see at that point if i'm allowed food. i have this evil hope in the back of my mind that on my long walk to work one of these days i'll pass out....i don't know why i want that, but i do. i guess its because it would be a great way to punish myself without seeming directly to blame. i can just say 'oh, i've been walking so much, and the heat...'  but it doesn't really matter right now. right now, i just have to make it through today. put on my perky mask and recite the lies told a thousand times before. because i will be thin.

the defenition of perfect

i know my friends love me, but they don't always know whats best for me. i mean any time i lose even a little bit of weight, they say i'm getting 'too' thin. even if i've only lost like five pounds and i'm still (for me) in the fat range. my fatter sister told me the other day that i'm at the perfect weight right now, that i shouldn't lose anything except maybe tone a little (funny though, she later mentioned that girls who have absolutely no fat anywhere and are just bones are perfect). yeah, no. theres no way i'm staying at this fat ass fleshy weight. i look disgusting, how am i the only one that sees this? so i know they want me to be happy and healthy, but thats not how i'm playing this. because in my quest to be healthy for them, i've stopped all destructive activity and its killing me. so i'm holding on to this one little thing. i'm losing weight, and i'm not doing it the healthy way. i'm going to starve, abuse laxatives, over exercise, whatever it takes to reach my goal and the next. i need this. i need this to not cry every time i look in the mirror. to not go completely insane. in this instance, bad is best for me. 

i don't wanna waste another minute here

right now i hate everything. i just want to close my eyes and have everything fade away. i hate my body that tortures me with pain and then craves and craves until i feed it, and in doing so create flesh that i loathe. i hate the people who i love, who in the end do nothing but leave me by myself to cry. i hate the sun for shining so brightly and electronics for not being reliable. ....i think you got the message. i fucking hate everything. i thought i was winning the struggle. i thought that i was starting to appreciate life, and actually want to live it. but the minute i have some time to myself to reflect, i see that nothing has changed. i still don't want this. i've just been so busy i didn't have time to think about anything. aren't days off lovely? i keep trying to make changes in my life, because i know that i can't continue on the way i have been, but its so hard to make anything happen. i try, and life goes "fuck you, you're stuck with this sad lot i gave you and thats that". well not really, but it sure feels that way. but i will keep trying, and maybe someday soon someone will put me out of my misery. a girl can dream ; )

bitches and whores

yesterday i chose life, and i was feeling strangely hopeful. and then i reached out to my friends and they couldn't be there for me. i was trying to do the healthy-un-self-destructive thing, and i get a lecture about how you can't rely on people, that you have to learn to be there for yourself. what a fucking slap in the face. or am i wrong to feel that way? because i mean i hardly ever reach out, because i know that people won't be there, that its only me. but the way i do things, my friends say is 'bad'. so they say go to them. and i try, and they give me a lecture on self reliance. ouch. yeah i sure wanna change my ways now. NOT. OBVIOUSLY. this just confirms all the things the 'bad' voices have been telling me for years. yet somehow i'm still supposed to stop being self destructive and do whats 'good'. fucking bullshit. i'm not superwoman. OBVIOUSLY. i'm not going to force myself to puke sunshine and rainbows because my asshole 'friends' are worried about me. its my fucking life. and i'm going to stop doing what they want. if i want to do something, and i think they won't like it, all the more reason to do it. i know that stupid and spiteful, but seriously if theres one thing i can't stand, its lies. and when you say you'll be there and then aren't, and then on top of that turn it around on me, i am inclined to spite you. oh god i needed this vent so hard. FUCKING PEOPLE!!!

life's a bitch, can i die already?

i went back to school because everyone was telling me thats what i should do. but i really don't care. i don't care about anything. because no matter how much money i make, or how many people love me, i will always always be in this much pain. but here i am. alive. putting up with this pain. because i love people. and i want to be here for them. and i don't want to hurt them by leaving. but in order to be there for them, i have to take care of myself. which i suck at. because i don't matter. stupid catch 22. fucking world. 

that one thing.

what is that book where there are twin boys, and one of them finds this place where time goes super fast and he goes there for a year but when he comes out less than a day has passed? i really can't remember the title. but i'm pretty sure its assigned to everyone in middle/high school. well anyways, i've always wanted to find a place like that. so i can just go away for a while and make myself perfect, and when i come back to the real world everything will have stayed the same and i'll be able to pick back up right where i left off. thats a huge fantasy of mine. i want it to happen so bad sometimes. if there was a way i could just pause everything, and just work on me, and then come back to the world, i would do it in a heartbeat. but there isn't. the world waits for no one. fucking selfish world. but i feel like thats what i need right now. i just need to go away and just make myself right.but thats impossible.i have to try and make myself right while living life at the same time. and i don't think i can do that. i'm so tired. everything is so draining, so much effort. i can't do this. 

i hate the game. and the player.

growing up, i was always told life is a game.that was the big secret of life that i was given. the most important part being, its okay to break the rules AS LONG AS YOU DON'T GET CAUGHT. and i got caught breaking the rules. so i'm pretty down on myself. i don't remember the part about making sure its worth the possible consequences, but right about now i sure as hell wish i had. i now officially have a criminal record. fuck me. i really cannot stop beating myself up emotionally or physically for this. as if my life wasn't fucked enough, as if i weren't fucked enough, i have to go and get caught shoplifting from walmart. which, by the way, is so not worth it. after five years, i guess i finally get that. stupid fucking rachel. make up your mind about life already!!!! do you want to give up and be shit and die soonish, or live and be something other than shit and not think about dying?

.....i wanna give up. every day i spend hours thinking about how much i don't want to live and  how much i want to break the promise i made that i would stick around. but i'm not doing anything about these thoughts. and i'm not doing anything to live my life either.....i can't be stagnant forever.

i really have to spin the wheel and make my move.

'

let it bleed

i'm afraid. of a lot of things. but one of things i'm afraid of the most, is needing. once i start something, i feel like i have to keep doing it over and over....shoving pieces of gum in my mouth, doing my nails, whatever it is once i let myself need it a little, a whole flood of needing rushes in....so if i really get into the super unhealthy stuff, cutting, starving, etc, well then i'll need it too. also i fear needing people. like i said just needing is a fear. i try to supress need but it jumps back up. right now i'm worried about the need for self harm. i've wanted to take it to another level for a while, but the fear is holding me to the edge....i'm not sure if i want to take the plunge...if the possible consequences are worth the relief. i keep pressing the blade into my flesh. so hard i can still see the imprint of its presence, but still not hard enough for the skin to break. for blood to flow. those harsh lines give me no release. i want to be released. i'm trying, but not hard enough. its never enough. i have to make the plunge. i keep thinking that i'm drawing blood, but nope. maybe i can't bleed like i can't vomit. i will make myself bleed. all these marks and no blood!!!!! food will stop being the punishment. i will pay with blood. ....well i'm at the point of bursting blood vessels now, so thats an improvement. i give up for now...i've been trying for hours....i will take that plunge. i will not do the 'right thing' and tell someone. i will be strong. and try again.

i will i will i will

i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. i will say no to food. monday. tuesday. wednesday. thursday. friday. saturday. sunday. monday. tuesday. wednesday. thursday. friday. saturday. sunday. fourteen days. i will do it. fourteen days is what i deserve. that will be my penance. the price i must pay for being such a bad bad rachel. 

my reward for completing this task will be as great as the strength it will take.

yakety yak, don't talk back

not to be one of those silly people who are like "nobody understands me, nobody possibly could understand the pain i feel", but seriously it pisses me off when complete strangers think they get what i go through every day. like tonight, at this party, i don't know how we got on the topic, but somehow my being depressed came up. and this stupid guy kept telling me all of the things i've heard a million times before. and i explicitly told him, i've heard everything he said before, i don't care, it doesn't matter to me, and i don't want to be saved. and yet he kept trying to convince me that i needed to be positive. he said he had been at rock bottom, because he had been a meth addict for a year. a year. so there was a year in his life where he put substances in his body that fucked his life up. yeah, thats totally comparable to my situation. not. i was fucking born this way. my whole life. i did nothing to put myself here. its always been this way, and it will always be this way. its not like i can get over my addiction and the world will again be filled with sunshine. because i don't have a fucking addiction. and there never was sunshine. my world is a world of pain and suffering. there is no bright side to look at. thinking positively is only deluding myself and causing myself greater harm in the long run. but fucking assholes like that don't understand that. because they don't listen to what i tell them. they hear what they want to hear. so they can keep hearing their own voices, and feel like they're saving someone. i don't want a drunk asshole to save me. because he can't. nothing you say will help me. listen when i tell you this please, or next time i might give in to the urge to punch you.

i'm ready for war

i want so many things so badly, and i just can't seem to try hard enough to achieve them. here i am, with nothing to do but sit at home all day and dedicate myself to getting what i want and i do just the opposite. which makes me really really hate myself. but i just feel pain and all i wanna do is make myself numb. i don't wanna work through it or push through it....shutting the blinds and curling up in bed is the most delicious sounding thing ever.....i hate myself i'm such a lazy lazy bitch. i need to push through. i should be stronger than my body. i should be controlling it, not letting it control me. i need to stop being a weak little bitch and hiding every time the monsters come for me....i will win this war!

i didn't call for the white horse, you've got the wrong address

everyone's always trying to fix me with their words. but i don't ask for it. and they get so upset when it makes no difference. does anyone ever stop and think? or am i the only one to use my brain, and think, 'gee this person isn't asking for my help or advice so i probably shouldn't give it to them'. i mean i get it that people care and want to see me happy and okay and whatever, but words will not change anything. they all say variations of the same thing. that i am loved and wonderful and have so much ahead of me blah blah blah things will get better blah blah blah. i always listen, to see if they say anything new, or to see if suddenly something clicks and i'm all 'i see now, it will be okay'. but of course that never happens. and then they get all upset because i 'don't care' and theres 'nothing they can do for me'. well people, just shut the fuck up for a minute! this is not about you. i mean, i know everyones world is about them, but when you're focusing on someone else, and their problems, it is about that someone else. but somehow, its still about them and how they feel and what they can do. thats wrong. its my problems. it should be about me and how i feel. when i feel i need help or advice i'll damn well ask for it. i am not a problem for you to fix so you can feel better because you have done a good deed. not every lost soul is waiting for someone to come show them the way. i am rapunzel, and i don't want any prince to climb my hair. i'm content to sit here and figure out if out there is where i want to be. and when i decide, then i might let down my hair.

things got ugly

today was just awful. i was doing good this morning, i had just one small apple, and i made it last several hours and i did fifteen minutes of pilates(had to stop muscles were cramping) etc, and then around ten thirty i just lost it, and i went into the kitchen and had a binge....the worst part tho was afterward. i tried to purge but its really hard for me to do, so i only got a little bit of it up, and i was really really upset and freaking out so i took a lot of laxatives and so i've spent most of the day either lying in bed clutching my swollen belly or on the toilet. and i still feel like i haven't got it out of me. it has to be out of me. i can't have eaten that food. it was too much, i know its going to stick to me like glue and when i wake up in the morning i'll be obese....this was the one thing i wasn't going to fail at, and i already have. i knew i should've just fasted forever....once i eat something i suddenly have to eat everything....and i was gonna have a binge free may dammit. 

taken over by the fear

i had this nightmare last night, i had to eat chinese food to prove i was okay, and i kept eating and eating it, and even though in the dream i knew it wasn't real i was freaking out because i thought i was getting fatter with each bite, and when i woke up i felt like i had gained five pounds just from dreaming about binging. it was awful. and i had to get a hideous tattoo (in the nightmare) for each dish i had eaten, and there was blood everywhere and my arm was a colored mess...and honestly, that was one of the scariest dreams i've ever had. and i have fucked up dreams all the time...i mean talking about it, it doesn't sound that frightening, but it was/is to me. its just another sign of how fucked up my relationship with food is. but as lily allen said, "everything is cool as long as i'm getting thinner"

food on the brain

i can't sleep, so i had a cup of tea and i added two sugars because i felt a little dizzy, and now i just feel revolting!  maybe its all in my head, but from that one drink i feel all nauseas and bloated and like i stuffed too damn much into my face. which is weird, because i can stuff a weeks worth of food into my yapper in one sitting (and did all weekend). and the most hated thing, as awful as i feel right now from that one cup of tea, i still want to go upstairs to the kitchen and gorge myself on anything that nobody will notice missing. i'm such a crazy food theif! i'm not going to do it of course, but i want to. so much. i wonder if i'll ever ever mentally not want to binge constanly, at least while i'm in a depressed state. i sure as hell hope so. there is no real general line to this post, i just can't sleep because i feel so yuck and i have food on the brain. awful combo.  those two sugars are making me really paranoid too. or maybe i'm just really paranoid right now and thats something to be paranoid about but i feel like just because of that, i'll have put on weight when i check the scale in the morning. i'm frightened to find out what the number is. its already large enough you know, i don't need it climbing up! so i really hope this is just me being crazy, and two sugars are not going to cause me to put on weight, when i haven't eaten for two days. we shall see...at least i've stopped obsessing over thisiswhyyou'refat.com...there's a sick obsession if i ever had one.

i have a problem, sadly theres no twelve step solution

i get drunk off of food. because what i do is i eat and eat and eat until it almost makes me sick, but not quite because then i won't get the luxury of having the food leave my body, and then i wait a little bit and repeat. and when i'm disgusted enough to muster up a little self control i stop eating period. for as long as i can, because i know once i eat something, i'll have to eat everything....and when that happens, it feels like i'm drunk. i'm lightheaded and sick and giddy and angry and sad....its like i'm swimming in emotions. and before it gets out of control, it can be quite pleasant....and then of course it turns ugly. i wish there was aa for food...12 steps to being clean and empty for life....i work everyday to stop this vicious cycle, and man that sure would be nice. i'll keep on dreaming....

of hippos and sugar

i am such a fucking hypocrite. or as me and my pal say, a 'potamus'. i really dislike liars and lying and i think the worst thing that you can do to me is lie. but i myself lie constantly. its not for fun....well okay sometimes its for fun (who doesn't like to fuck with people?). but mostly, its because i know that lying is better than the truth. whoever i'm talking to doesn't really want to know, so i give them what they want to hear....its usually not heaping whoppers, just little untruths sprinkled among the truths. and it comes naturally and is usually an unconscious act.  i tell people i'm a horrible liar, and i pretend to be, but that in itself is a lie to hide all of the other lies. and everyone believes it. they all think that they can tell when i am lying because i pretend i'm a bad liar. the only thing they're really catching is great acting. some lies are for protection. to protect me, people involved in whatever i'm lying about, or the person i'm lying to. i guess my thing is that i want the truth no matter what, i don't want the sugar coated version or any other version of the truth because i don't need protection or sheilding or any of that. i can handle the truth, and i don't believe the rest of the world can..........................................but who am i to say they can't? and who are they to say i can't...........see? fucking potamus.

and this too shall pass....

one good thing about having bipolar disorder, is that you know the depression won't last forever.  it may last a helluva long time, but eventually you'll cycle out of it.  thats the silver lining i'm hanging onto right now. because i feel like things have been awful forever and they're always going to be awful. i've done my nails twice since my last post. orange with purple tips and half yellow/half gold.  so that compulsion hasn't passed obviously.  other than that strangeness i don't feel any less depressed. i have all of these important time sensitive matters to deal with and when it comes time to do them i am just out of energy. i need to find a way to get medication, but getting out of my pjs and into regular clothes is a major chore. right after i have to lay down. and maybe take a five hour nap.  i just keep telling myself, 'this can't last forever....you'll cycle out of it soon'. and even though i know that to be true i have a hard time believing it will be soon enough. being like this really ruins a persons life. it gets you kicked out of school, fired from work, your friends leave you....i mean i don't have a job anymore but i am on the verge of flunking out of school (again) and therefore cutting off my only income source.  and how does one survive without money? not very well. its enough to make a girl wish she was manic....

painting the roses red

when i'm depressed, almost all care for hygiene and appearance go out the window. the one thing that i always do keep up on, no matter what, is cleaning my ears. something about it just makes me feel okay. even if i haven't showered in a week, as long as i have freshly cleaned ears i feel clean enough. lately though, cleaning my ears hasn't been enough. i've felt a compulsion to polish my nails. i don't give myself regular manicures and i'll wear polish until it chips completely off, so its weird that just this week i've done my nails three times. lime green, dark purple, and turquoise. i've actually had to stop myself from doing them every night. because i have felt the urge to. i don't know what it is, or even if its a good thing, but i'm crossing my lovely freshly done nails and hoping that it means i'm cycling up. if not, well then i guess i have a new obsession. and look way more pulled together : p

ten hits of lamotrigine please, with a side of dextro

today i reached a new low. i asked someone if they though a drug dealer would sell mood stabilizers because i think that would be easier...and i was serious.  i really fucking need medication. i hate being this low for this long...and every time i seem to be cycling up the next day i'm down twice as hard....not only am i miserable, but i seriously can't function. just getting out of bed and doing things like taking a shower are huge acheivements...i'm flunking school, i had to quit my job because they were going to fire me....this is not living. 

i just have to find a legit way to get medications so i can actually start living...otherwise i'm going to actually kill myself.  i just don't know what options i have. the state rejected me for aid, nobody accepts my jacked up insurance company, and i don't have any money to spend on it myself.  if i wasn't moving at the speed of a snail maybe i would have this figured out already....

fuck

my

illness

one month anniversary

a month ago, to the day, i admitted myself to the hospital for an overdose. i had taken over thirty pills from various old prescriptions in an attempt to end my life. it seems like just yesterday and forever ago all at the same time. i spend a lot of time regretting not going all the way through with it. the plan was to take all of my pills, lay in the tub, and slit my wrists using the handy-dandy-super-sharp x-acto knife. the pills would sedate me so that i could be sure to either drown or bleed out. i couldn't trust the any one method to get the job done. i had researched each medication thoroughly and none guaranteed death but there would very likely be brain damage if i survived. my life is bad enough without brain damage. so i combined three ways to die to make sure it'd work. and i was sitting there, in the tub swallowing pill after pill after pill ready for it all to end. the stereo had bad day by fuel on repeat, and a note was on the toilet. i was ready. then it was time to slit my wrists, and i realized i really wasn't ready. because i couldn't do it. i've never cut myself or made myself bleed at all, so this was a big deal for me to be holding a razor....i just couldn't make that cut....i sat there crying and holding it against my skin for what felt like ages but i'm sure it was only a few minutes. and then i knew i had to go to the hospital. because if i couldn't be triple sure i'd be dead, i needed to be positive there would be no brain damage from the overdose. honestly, they didn't do crap for me at the hospital and it was an awful time. i probably would have been better sleeping it off at home. all the reasons i wanted to end my life are still there, not that much has changed in a month, and at least ten times every day i wish i had the balls to finish things. 

every single day since i was released from the hospital i have asked myself, why am i still here? what is worth all this pain? and i don't have an answer. it used to be the people i love (family&friends). but this year i've gotten to the point where even thats not enough. 

either the pain has to go away or i will....

...and go!

i titled this blog 'beneath the icing' for one of my favorite songs ever jumper by third eye blind. there's this line "icing over a secret pain", and this is going to be me writing about my secret pain.....so the title really clicks for me. 

you'll notice i'm not capitalizing anything...and to warn you, i never will. i like typing in all lowercase. if you can't deal with it, then don't read.  

i just wanna put a few things out there, for whatever readers may come across this. first, even though i'm going to be writing about my pain, i'm not emo. and i hate whining. this isn't to whine. its to vent. letting it out so that i can move on, and put that smile back on my face. second, everything i am going to write is the absolute truth as i see it, the only thing fictional would be names that i will change to protect identities. and lastly, i'm making all of this public not because i hope someone will discover it and make me famous but because i want to help people who are going through what i'm going through know that they're not alone.

welcome to my madness

xo

rachel