Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Daily life has been really challenging to maintain the last week or so. My PTSD has been intense this past week w/new memories and flashbacks. I've been struggling do things like shower and sleep, and just being awake in general is hard. I had to drop a class, unfortunately, but I think it was a good decision.

I feel kind of sad that it has to limit me, but I guess I'm glad I tried. And I suppose that's what matters. A lot of the times it feels like two steps forward and three steps back, but I'm trying to look on the upside -- less stress, which means I can give my other classes that much more attention.

Here's to finishing off this semester. Hopefully it will be another one without a hospitalization! I'll be proud of that achievement when it comes.

Monday, February 27, 2012

I ruin everything I touch.
No, I manage to ruin anything I even think about or manage to utter with my voice.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012


Two weeks ago in therapy, I finally, for the first time in my life, really figured out why I'm so resistant to recovery (ED as well as other issues).

I was talking to her about how I felt pressured to go back into ED treatment by other people in my treatment team, and expressed my frustration. It wasn't just the pressure, I told her, I don't even know if I want to get better! Well, the next session, she straight up asked me what exactly we were doing together if I wasn't trying to get better. After freaking out inside my mind about the possibility of her cutting our relationship, I stated my default reasons ("I've been this way so long. I don't know who I am without this." "It's hard word and I'm scared I won't be able to do it." "I'm angry that I'm the one to clean up this mess." etc. ). Don't get me wrong, these reason are valid and make sense, but what I confessed a couple minutes later made me realize that these feelings only pointed to the actual reason.

I said, "My behaviors are my voice. If I don't have them, how will anyone hear me?" (Or, something to that effect.) As I was saying these words, I came to an understanding of my resistance on a core level. I could finally articulate my emotions. This really is my biggest fear, for if I cannot voice myself, then how will someone locate me? How will someone see that I exist, therefore something or someone to be loved? I guess it was so revealing, because it not only unveiled my emotions (I'm scared to..., I'm worried that...), but pinpointed the function of my reluctance to recovery.

I think a couple of things are lending itself to this realization at this point in my life. One, it's awesome that my therapist can be up front with me about what she is perceiving to be preventing my recovery. She put me in check, and I think I need that. Not just emotionally, but intellectually. Second, I think for once, I am in a relationship with someone who really loves me for me, and doesn't use me to somehow fulfill themselves emotionally. So it helps to have someone who will respond to me just as much when I am doing well and drama free as much as when I am kneeling at the gates of hell. I no longer have to resort to extreme behavior for someone I love to pay attention to me. In fact, in this relationship, it doesn't usually work. It's not like with ____, who deprived me of basic needs when they did not get what they wanted from me. It is not like with ____, who suddenly vivified when I was in crisis, and exploited my vulnerability.

Well, I told my therapist that this is actually what I conceive my biggest problem to me. Not the cutting, the b/p, the PTSD, the depression, whatever. It's that I fear that if I get better and no longer have these behaviors to express myself, I will have no voice.

This realization is twofold. This newfound knowledge and understanding feels like a blessing and a curse. One part of me feels forced to confront the fact that I DO have a voice besides these behaviors, whether I want to admit it or not. On the one hand, this new clarity makes me feel like I can really begin working on my issues now that I have exercised my voice to express my fears. On the other hand, it makes me want to run the other way screaming towards the cliff.


Thursday, January 19, 2012

I saw this excerpt pasted on someone else's blog. I love this quote. I think it describes my experience of EDs exactly. Maybe you can relate:

“I wanted to kill the me underneath. That fact haunted my days and nights. When you realize you hate yourself so much, when you realize that you cannot stand who you are, and this deep spite has been the motivation behind your behavior for many years, your brain can’t quite deal with it. It will try very hard to avoid that realization; it will try, in a last-ditch effort to keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the rest of you. This is, I believe, different from the suicidal wish of those who are in so much pain that death feels like relief, different from the suicide I would later attempt, trying to escape that pain. This is a wish to murder yourself; the connotation of kill is too mild. This is a belief that you deserve slow torture, violent death.”

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted