Wednesday, December 19, 2012

"Leave" 2

So to continue with what I w saying.... everything felt really wrong already. I couldn't even express how I was feeling to him. Eventually when someone doesn't get what you are saying after ten or twenty or a hundred times, you stop trying to tell them whatever it is. I'm tired of it. I am not sure he has the ability to know what I need, or even to understand what really matters to me.
H texted me that last night after D had fallen asleep. I do find myself missing him sometimes, but it doesn't hurt as much anymore. It's like a soft love pang that makes me smile to remember. He was my first love when I think about it. That boy I wrote notes with and pretend dated, what I had with him was nothing like what I had with H. I say pretend because we were both Mormon kids and we weren't allowed to date for a few more years at that point. So we wrote notes and flirted. Oh but he does count in a way. He actually calls me randomly for no reason. I still smile when I think of him too.
I am back at the apartment by the way. I must have looked terrible when I went up the stairs at my parents' house yesterday after I discovered what had happened. He left me a little note in his awful handwriting but it was my sister who told me that he had to go home to help his parents with something. He actually left while I was asleep, on his day off, because his mommy and daddy told him to. My mom says he tried to wake me up but then I wonder how hard. I did tell him very firmly in the past to never wake me up, but where is his good judgement? Face the panic attack I might but might not have because of being awoken? Or be absent when I panic because I realize I was left behind to fend for myself and pack up heavy things by myself, and say goodbye by myself. I was more worried that I wouldn't be able to get a ride back here to the apartment. A person can really die on the inside and I'm living- or really, dying- proof. I think anyone else struggling with an eating disorder might be the same as me in that way. No?
But I felt so much like crying and it must have shown on my face, because I went upstairs and my mom asked what was wrong, concerned, and I just said, "I want to go home." Thankfully she was able to be a proper mother then. She told me that I could leave with my dad and the girls when he had to take them to church activities. I ked when they would be leaving and she said half an hour. I guess my expression said it all. She then assured me that my oldest brother could drive me home whenever I wanted. I managed to finish the package to my other brother, the one I haven't seen in years, and I packed my things. My brother had to carry my stuff out for me because my mom asked him to. I literally could not lift the backpack without seriously hurting myself. Last time it cut off all of the blood in my arm and then pulled a muscle over my shoulder. I have terribly painful back issues and my ear was hurting, and I was shaking from refusing dinner after waking up... it just wouldn't have worked. My back pain at its worse literally takes the breath out of me and I sort of stay really still because it hurts too much to move. All of those bad falls on my head and neck and choulders, and the falls on the ice and rocks on my back... I was thrown off of the trampoleen by accident by college boys when I was eight or so and landed on my head. And I crashed my sled once and basically hit my tail bones and the top of my spine on the ice on two separate occasions. My back hurt for weeks after, both times and many more. I am so beat up. >.<
Either way, my mom had to ask him at least five times to help me and then he started getting angry and I got scared-er. I was already in a state of high anxiety. He's the one who used to beat me and strangle me and try and stab me with things. Pencil into my thumb once...
I'm only afraid when he gets angry, but I always get really scared when anyone gets angry. I do love him. I love all of them.
I decided then that I HAD to get skinny. D will never get it, and neither will most people until they can see it on my body. I want them to want to protect my heart because if they don't, I'll starve myself into nothing.
I wanted to eat nothing. Not a thing. Ever. Again.
But I did. Food has been shoved at me all day. A little bit of this or that. At my parent's house, they usually offer me food instead of just giving it to me. The old man threw me a rise crispy. I didn't want to just shove it away somewhere. Showing is appreciating. But my mom knows I have some sort of eating disorder and would pressure me to eat something at some point. Here, it is A LOT more forced. So I'd been snacking only a little bit on chips all day, not really counting chips or calories, but after looking at the back of the bag, I had a vague enough idea to keep myself in check. But then I had bites of a lemon parfait because I was afraid it would go bad and get wasted, and something else I think, but I took my pill right after that to help since the last was wearing off anyways. I do follow directions with that though. No self medicating so to speak, or overdosing or whatever. I'm not really addicted. My appetite is,  but I can easily forget it or skip it on purpose. Swallowing big pills make me gag, and that's not meant to sound dirty.
They made onion rings, and cheese stick thingies, and some fries just for me. I had one or two of the first two foods, but I picked at the fries, K's version of a handful and never finished even half. Maybe a third- maybe.
I turned down the chocolate frosted donuts with m'n'm's and sprinkles though. I said I felt sick and not very hungry, which is actually really true. I weighed after doing my bathroom stuff and then took a shower. I am at 138.5 I think. Or maybe it was 137.5... well, around there anyways. Better than at 140 still I suppose... or at that number again, I should say. Meh. I literally only sleep every other day now and so I haven't slept since I woke up to find D gone. That's about... well, I've been up at least 27 hours now. I can't sleep.
But I hate myself for any food right now. Real anorexics, 500 would be a high number for them, wouldn't it be? I get thousands of calories shoved down my throat. I am sure of it. I need to lose. Now. I feel like my body is going to obsorb anything I eat as if it's a high calorie food. I shouldn't be scared to eat a few green beans but a lot of food is a lot of food, and a small bowl of green beans that adds up to barely any calories is still too much. It feels like water has calories, and if I drank too much of it, my body would absorb it as fat somehow anyways. And anything that says it is zero calories. I always give high estimates, maybe that's why. Food is food is food and no matter what, eating feels like giving in and failing. Sorry to write so much all at once. For anyone who gets through both posts- you have a lot of patience! O.O

"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.