I am posting right now because I feel very, very, very off.
I don't think I am going to be able to get into an apartment this year at all. D keeps reassuring me but it just never gets through. No one will co-sign for us. We only make about 1 and 1/2 of the rent for this perfect place that allows pets and is close enough to work and has a special offer of $200 deposit + $99 first month rent.
I hate my life.
I am at D's again, although I don't know why really. I'm not sure I really want to be here, but I don't want to be there either so I am in constant limbo. It just feels like I am escaping back and forth between several places that are both uncomfortable and scary.
I am getting more and more convinced towards D, but I wonder if I am just settling. Is it his gentle hands I am really feeling on my head? I wonder if I imagine it to be H's. I wonder if I am just shifting my emotional dependence to another person. Maybe I am just shifting my affections onto someone new. I feel like maybe, I can't feel secure without a guy and that is a problem. With no one to direct all my attentions to, I think I would be able to heal. Without someone to pick up the slack and be there for me all the time, I could learn self respect and independence. I am scared and tired.
I ate way too much today. I can't even count the number of calories I must have had. I had an enormous sandwich earlier after my meds and a cream soda. Then I have had kit-kats all day long. 70 calories each I believe, but I had way too many. I know that the cheeses I piled onto that sandwich were like, 70 to 80+ calories each and I had baby swiss, cheddar, pepper jack, pepper cheese, and a few other kinds. I had at least two of each, for some of them even more. I put mayo on it because there was no mustard, and then piled on lots of slices of chicken and pepperoni. The bread itself was at least 100+ calories per slice, which I had two of.
Then the kit-kats.
I was lucky enough to only be 141 point something this morning, without sleep. And even though I was dead exhausted this morning from not sleeping, I am so tightly wired that I can't sleep. I am wide awake, full of energy. I'm sitting down and my leg is doing that jumping thing that a lot of people do when they have ADHD- just subconsciously trying to rid the body of so much energy I guess.
D is waiting for me in the bed but I don't want to go.
I don't know what is going on with me anymore.
I had at least ten kit-kats. That is 700 calories. Add in a few more, the apple juice and the cream soda that I never count, the reeses that I knew I was snacking on before the sandwich, 110 each... The sandwich...
The sandwich must have been at least 1,000 calories on it's own...
I am so torn apart. I didn't even eat dinner. I just snacked all day long and now I am basically panicking, wondering if there is any possible way to burn it off before going to bed, but I know he will be waiting for me and if he hears me pacing his living room he will come and find me. Even if he falls asleep he will wake up later on and look for me. It's pointless. The walking would barely burn a few hundred at 2-3 hours anyways.
The math in all of this is killing me. I have been doing so terribly lately, but never this terrible. I am going to gain at least two pounds by tomorrow. I already know it. And I am trapped.
I'm not manic depressed or panicked about life, or going to do anything drastic but I wish desperately that I had the strength to do so.
My life is going nowhere. I am failing at getting to my goal. I am still a whole fucking 141+ pounds. I am running out of time. I need to be tiny. I need to be one last breath away from dying. I need to scare people, and yet I just want to be left alone. This life is horrible and it just keeps going. Nothing can make it stop. Nothing. Even if I did move out, there is nothing for me out there. I will always be depressed. Medications and psychologists can't cure this thing I have. I am tired of people telling me how much they want me to get better from an illness that cannot really be cured. There is no cure for depression, anxiety, eating disorders...
I cut today. I found the knife I had with teeth and I tore through my leg. The worst part is that D enjoyed watching it. I don't mind because it was exciting for me. I like to cut. It's dark and unhealthy but the cutting is nice. He wanted to see so I smiled, put my foot on the bed and just slashed it once against the side of my leg. The blood dripped very quickly down my leg into a mess. He helped me clean it up a little but he wanted to taste the blood. I don't feel that it's wrong either. I mean, more than anything I just wish that some shock would register on his face when I inflict a physical wound on myself, and that he would care enough to be concerned or at least tell me to stop. But he didn't. It was the same thing when I was talking about my eating disorder. He was excited about it, and I would even go as far as to say, he found it attractive, but when I told him that I was disappointed that he didn't care about it, he corrected all of that.
He said when he thought I was going to far he would say something. Wow. Encourage me to hold on to something that can kill me, until it is too late. Then what could he possibly say that would make me recover? He said he would pick me up and carry me to a hospital if he had to, and I asked for warning first. If it gets to that I am running. I am hitting the streets.
I have no dreams right now though except for being smaller...