Don’t worry none of this new year new me bollocks from me. Things have been exactly the same. Quick warning though some of you might find this triggering. So if you are triggered by talk of eating disorders or self injury then please don’t read it.
I came home on the third. And i had my big review meeting like i said i was having in my last post. It went OK. There was the news that my independent reviewing officer (it’s just a posh name) is retiring before my last review. I was quite upset because she’s been there since the beginning. So we’re going to meet up in march for a meal together with my social worker. But yeah apart from that it went OK.
It’s been everything else that’s been difficult. I’ve not been doing too well. On the outside i’m smiling and laughing. On the inside i’m crying and slowly dying. I’m really struggling. And that takes a lot for me to admit. But it’s one thing to admit it to a computer screen and another to admit it in real life. I hate my life at the moment. Sure there’s good things about it, like i’m not saying I’ve got the worst life ever. I have my family and a few close friends. But as a general rule i’m not living i’m existing. I’m getting through the day – barely.
i hate how i can’t look at food as a thing to fuel my body. Food is either my mortal enemy or my only coping strategy. I hate how i had £30 from Christmas money and i desperately wanted to spend it on binge food to throw up and laxatives. I didn’t but i really really wanted to. I hate how i miss using laxatives, don’t get me wrong laxative abuse is horrible. It’s awful sitting there on the toilet for hours on end dehydrating myself because i can’t stand to weigh more than the bare minimum. I despise everything to do with laxatives abuse, it’s expensive, I’ve ended up shitting myself before now, it makes you physically feel like crap, and all you lose weight wise is shit and water. There is literally not one good thing about it. And when you try to stop using laxatives as a form of purging you can’t go for a normal crap. So how on earth do i still miss it??? All i know is i’m not going to stop only two things will stop me. And that’s my ultimate goal weight and death. And my final goal weight is 6 stone, i’m 5 foot 7 so that would be a BMI of 13.15. It’s a case of get to that weight or die trying.
I hate how i haven’t cut for nearly 10 months. And how it feels like I’ve gone 10 months without breathing. I hate that so so much. I hate that my scars are fading and i feel lost without them. I hate how nearly a year clean and i still have razors for that purpose. Like i can’t give them up. I don’t know how I ever will. I would give anything right now to cut. I would like nothing more than to make a fountain with my blood. The image may be horrific in your minds but to me, i don’t think i can think of anything better. I’m trying so hard to get to 1 year without cutting but i don’t think that’s because i want to stop cutting. I think it’s more of a short term goal, more of like an achievement. And because i’m a perfectionist and I’ve set this goal i can’t break it. I don’t think I’ve stopped cutting for good.
I hate how i have little control over my body anymore. Like I’m in so much pain when i suppress my tics. So there’s not a lot i can do while i’m suppressing because i can’t concentrate. I hate how i can have a fit at any point. I hate how small things like a fork have become dangerous. Because i stab myself with it. I hate how i can’t leave my house alone anymore i’m a danger to myself. It makes me sad to think about how independent i used to be and then to face the reality of now. It’s hard to come to terms with. I hate how people i meet think physically things are ‘not that bad’ because i suppress a lot. And i hate how because i feel more comfortable around certain people i let more tics out, leading people to think that i am ‘putting it on’ because you only have tourettes some of the time.
I hate how i feel like my entire identity is built around my mental illness and my tourettes. I don’t know who i am without them. I know i love animals but after that, it’s anybody’s guess. And i want to scream that i’m not OK. I want to shout it from the rooftops but not even a whisper comes out.
I hate how i don’t have a job or a place at college. I hate how i haven’t done anything with my life over this past year. Not anything good that I’ve stuck to anyway. I don’t know where i’m going wrong. I’m taking my medications. I’m going to my therapy. I’m talking to people as much as i can. I’ve been looking for a job as hard as i can. I’ve been trying to find new coping mechanisms. I’ve tried everything i can think of. And nothing ever EVER helps. I’M FUCKING TRYING SO HARD RIGHT NOW AND IT’S NEVER GETTING ANY BETTER. I had a whole year of fighting for my life last year. I had 3 admissions into a psych ward. I had ligatures and crying until i couldn’t breathe. I had banging my head against a wall. I had screaming, i had praying to god to please just let me die. I had my hopes and dreams crushed right in front of me. I had binges and purges galore. And i had pain, hallucinations and hurt plentiful. I had standing on bridges fighting my demons alone. I had hospital visits after taking pills, i had everything.
And i don’t want to do that this year. But there’s not really an alternative. And that’s the ultimate hate. The fact that i’m in this for the long haul. The fact that nothing getting better is a theme of my life. And there’s fuck all i can actually do about it. I’ve been trying to make changes and every single fucking time the world kicks me down just as i’m trying to get up. And it sucks so much. But i have to go down fighting.
So if there’s one person reading this right now and you get one thing from this let that be that i’m not going down without a fight. And neither should you.
With love and dinosaur hugs
Alanis xx
Lifewithamentalillnessandtourettes 