Wednesday, December 19, 2012

"Leave" 1

So the night before last I stayed overnight at my parents' house. I was there for three nights. The first was soon after coming back from D's in that incradably horrifying mood. I couldn't stop snapping at him and biting his head off about stupid things, and I mean- really,really stupid things. You know, like when kids are in a car together too long and suddenly the most annoying thing is that everyone is breathing too loud, and they are just a hair into your space bubble because they have to be but it feels like they are in your lap crushing you, and you can't breathe? Maybe you don't know what I mean but it doesn't matter. I lasted the night okay I think. I slept fitfully on the couch, going to bed hours later than everyone else, probably at around two or three in the morning. Then the kindergarten age sister was the first up besides my dad who was in the shower, and that was maybe seven in the morning at latest. She ended up waking me up by accident so I helped her make breakfast. But that's all besides the point.
After a little while I just felt trapped and lost and out of control. The constant noisiness and bustle of my large family on a Sunday morning made me withdraw. I got out my computer and plugged my earphones into that because my mp3 player was mostly drained and I couldn't find my recharger anywhere. I started out on Facebook but as everyone was hurrying to get ready and was paying less attention to me, I put up a YouTube tab and turned on my playlists. It was one of my pro Ana playlists. I didn't have to even watch them to understand because I've seen them so many times, I associated the whole determination of becoming tiny with them.
Once they left, I watched the car turn out of the driveway and then I immediately went to change. I pulled out the exercise bike and put my laptop plugged in to the side and played my playlists full screen with the speakers loudly pounding those songs through whatever part of my brain made me work harder. I was sweating withing minutes I think. I only worked off 230 calories before D came over. And when he came in I was still doing that in the basement so I had time to push it aside and pull a heavy sweatshirt over my see-through, sweaty and loose top. I don't know how he didn't hear my music and just come down, but he knows about those playlists and the music on them, so it's not that big of a deal I suppose. Just for some reason I really didn't want him to know that I was exersizing. The more you tell the okay people about your eating disorder, the more they can do to make your life hell when they finally see you and realize what is going on. It's never scary or dangerous or bad until you look that way. Literaly- fat chance.
I went right back into my old mode and it was tempting to just stay there and sink into it. I forgot to take my meds for a while but on the second or third night I was so withdrawn into that not eating mode I have, that somehow I completely over wrote the extreme cravings that Med will give you when you forget it. I may have eaten green beans the first night, but I refused everything the second. Nothing looked good. Not even the Christmas treats my mom had made that no one else will ever be able to turn down unless they are puking their guts out with the flu. Even then...
I finished the box for my brother and left it with my mom who was going to dig out some candy to sprinkle into the tinsle I threw all over the place in there. She even decided to pay the shipping fee for me when she shipped it out. Hopefully she got that done.
I hardly saw my lovely cat, Princess. The new cat got worms back which she must have had too and given it back to him. But at least he got treated for it once. My poor baby sleeps outside ever other night in inches at least of snow and terribly cold weather because she is scared to death of the new cat, who vicsiously attacks her when he sees her. The new cat also attacks the little kids and scratches and bites up their hands and then meows when he isn't being held or carried around. My cat lived there first. I've had her for four or five years now and they just basically sentenced her to death. Not only is she sicka nd has worms and is freezing all the time, but the other cat eats all of her food and there are coyotes outside. They got several of my other cats because my mom let them outside regularly on purpose. I have basically resigned to this idea that she's going to die any day now. My mom basically killed Mia that way. Remember me talking about her? Well she is long gone and dead by now.
Princess means so much to me that I am just completely shut down at this thought. I'm sure at least some of you know how a pet can be more like a best friend or family member than just an animal you cage and feed.
I wandered off topic again though. The third day- the night before last- I fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, maybe five or six in the morning, hours after D had fallen asleep. I woke up several times with half asleep, mini panic attacks. For some reason I thought D had left and I was then there alone. Of course through each panic attack I was too tired to think and kept falling back to sleep. That kind of anxiety always gives me nightmares. By maybe the fifth or sixth time I woke up, (I'm not sure how many times I was awake enough to remember all of the panic attacks), I sat up and made myself think for a moment.
I don't have to worry about him leaving me. He's different. D isn't H. He wouldn't just leave me here...
I knew every time I woke up a little more awake that I wasn't going to get up for a while. I was planning to just stay there under the covers until D dragged me out, which he never does. I wanted to just curl up and die. I was sitting there breaking my own heart, thinking that- again- he was up talking and playing with my family, and my sisters. I'm not sure why exactly this was riling me up so much, but I think it had a lot to do with the fact that I just didn't have the energy to do everything with them, I've never had enough for that. So watching them smile and laugh with him like he already belonged, when I have always been the black sheep of the family hurt. He could do everything with and for my family that I have wished all my life I could do for them, and it's all because I am lazy and fucked up because I am depressed. It hurt. I went out there to the house and I only see my family once a week at the most, usually more like once a month, and my family- my SISTERS- spent more time with him. My parents even spoke to him like an adult and then they turned and treated me like a child, like a stupid, selfish, self centered little teenager. It made me feel like I was being put in my proper place below D, and below everyone else. It felt like I wasn't worth anything to them.
I know this is all I rational but it's how I feel, and there is nothing more true and honest than the way one feels. My feelings ARE valid. Just not to anyone but me I guess.
So to conclude, I called out to my sister from the couch and asked her where he was. I meant in the house but... I already knew though. The first time I woke up panicking, my subconscious already knew he'd left me there at my parents house. Somehow he became delusional while being friendly with all of them. He KNEW how rough that place was on me. I had even said the night before that I wanted to go home when I woke up and he was gone. This is long so I'm going to continue it in the next post.

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