TW TW TW Wasting away TW TW TW

TW TW TW TALKS OF EATING DISORDERS DON’T READ IF YOU THINK THIS MAY TRIGGER YOU IN ANY WAY! TW TW TW

 

So i have a friend online who lives in England, like me.  I love her like hell. We’ve been speaking for a while now and she’s the most amazing person ever. I care about her so so much. She has anorexia nervosa binge/purge sub type.  And she’s been struggling with her eating disorder for a while, years in fact. I speak to her on a forum and if you go back over her posts you can see her decline. And it sucks. Like I’ve never known her when she was healthy and happy. I’ve never known her when she was either. And that’s really hard. It’s hard to know that if she wasn’t going through this pain then we would’ve never encountered each other. Like i’m glad we’ve ‘met’ but god i wish it wasn’t in this way. 

 

She terrifies me on a daily basis. If she posts she scares me, because will this be the last time I ever hear from her? If she doesn’t post she terrifies me, scares me shittless, whatever way you want me to put it. Because i’m scared that it’s because she’s gone. That she’s not with us anymore. And that’s difficult, because you can’t constantly be thinking that, but at the same time you have to be realistic. She could die at any moment, that’s the stage it’s got to. 

 

And the hardest part is that she doesn’t want to survive it. She doesn’t want to recover, to get better. I remember one time i spoke to her and i was trying to get her to understand but in a different way. I said that ‘at some point you have to decide whether your will to live is stronger than your will to destroy yourself.’ I s’pose i was trying to get the response that she wants to live but it’s too hard to recover. At which point I and other people would jump in with the we’re all here to support you, you can do this, it’s going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do but you can do it, you got this. But that didn’t happen. She told me that her will to destroy herself is stronger than her will to survive. Which was difficult to hear. She posted yesterday about the fact that she’s sorted out a funeral plan, this makes me sad. It’s like she’s already accepted how this will end and she doesn’t even care. I get that when it’s in regards to me. I know how i can just lie there waiting for death to finally take me. But i would see such a loss if she was to die from this.  I see so much love and hope and potential for a future when it comes to her. I just want her to see it too. 

 

I’m hoping to go down to visit her soon, it’d be great to spend some time with her in person. But i’m also scared to see how emaciated and ill she is. 

 

I know if she doesn’t want to get better and recover, that it doesn’t matter what i say and/or do. I know that. And i’m also sadly beginning to see that this is unlikely to end well. I’ve not in any way, shape or form given up, and i don’t think i ever will. I think i’ll fight the situation until her dying breath. I think it would be easier in some regards to give up, because then at least i wouldn’t be putting all my strength into this when it’s not going to have have a happy ending. It would be easier in some ways to be able to detach myself from the whole situation, but i can’t. I want to help. And i can’t. 

 

I was speaking to my mental health nurse about her the other week. And he said to me, you need to give up on something that’s not going to work. You need to focus on yourself. She’s really not going to get better, do you honestly believe she can survive this? And it really pissed me off, like how could he view this as a hopeless situation. She’s a person at the end of the day. As long as there is oxygen in her lungs and she has a beating heart, i’m going to try and help to save her. And if it doesn’t work, than at least i can know that i tried, that i kept on fighting for her even when she wasn’t fighting for herself. And in answer to his question a part of me does think she can survive this. So as long as i still have that part inside of me, i can’t give up hope. And if i focus on myself here, how could i cope with the idea that i could have done more. I couldn’t. 

 

My heart hurts, this is such a shit situation  but I will continue to try and i will continue to hope because really, what other option do i have? 

With love and dinosaur hugs

Alanis x

TW Like a fucking Dalmatian TW

Trigger warning: Contains talk of ligatures and suicide. Do not read if you feel like this may trigger you.

I’m sorry that I haven’t checked in for a while. Things have been a bit shitty. I look like a fucking damnation currently. Let me explain. I was really struggling last night and I was seriously desperate to cut. I’d tried talking to people, I’d tried distracting myself, I’d tried crying. Nothing was helping. So instead of cutting g i decided that I would ligature. I use the word decided very loosely as I didn’t really think it through. For those who aren’t self harmers or anything like that, ligaturing is when you tie things around your neck. A suspended ligature is when you hang/try to hang yourself. This one was a non suspended ligature though. Anyway this one was really tight, so its left my face in a bit of a mess. When you have a tight ligature on or you have a very violent purge  it bursts blood vessels in your face. Which consequently has left me looking like a Dalmatian.

I tried too add a picture but couldn’t figure it out on my tablet.

Its not a good look.

And in the care home that I’m in everyone knows what the Dalmatian look means, so until it goes away I’m having to do the walk of shame everywhere. Im ashamed that I couldn’t keep my shit together and that I faltered.

I really want to kill myself. But I can’t. I can’t physically do it because people always stop me, they cut ligatures off of my neck. They take my to the hospital if I’ve taken pills (if i refuse to go they call the police who take me by force). If run away to jump off of a motorway bridge they calk the police to bring me back. They don’t allow me to succeed.

And then mentally I would struggle to put my family through that. I know it would hurt them. But I’ve been thinking. Which is more selfish to killk yourself because you can’t take it anymore, because you can’t deal with things never feeling like they’re getting better .Or is it more selfish to force someone to stick around for your benefit.

For now don’t worry I m safe. But in don’t know how much more this i can take. *giant cyber hugs* to anyone else feeling this way. I seriously hope things improve for you soon.

So yeah that’s the only real update I’ve got. Sorry it wasn’t more positive. Feeling very crappy right now if you can’t already tell.

With love and dinosaur hugs

Alanis xx

Same shit different year. TW

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

I got triggered.

TW Self harm urges trigger warning please don’t read this if you think it might trigger you as that’s the last thing i’d ever want.

I wrote this yesterday but felt too low to continue. I’m posting it now for the sake of being honest. Sorry for the long post.

It was my last therapy session of the year today, i have art therapy once a week and today was my last session for 3 weeks. This may not sound big to anyone else but to me it’s massive. Anyway that went really well and i’d had an medication review meeting earlier on in the morning which went well too. Then at 2pm we started our Christmas party for the house which went really well, we opened the not so secret Santa gifts that had been distributed among the staff. One of the members of staff opened a present from my mum to the house. It was a harry potter trivial pursuit. We played that for a while and it all went really really well.

This is the part where it might be triggering. This is the part where i am brutally honest, with whoever reads this and myself.

Then a while later when i was speaking to the staff at the office door and I don’t know how i managed it but I accidentally kicked a nail that was poking out of the floor tonight. It was the end which you hit with the hammer. And yes it hurt like a bitch. I thought i was just being over dramatic but i checked my foot that i kicked it with and it was bleeding quite a bit and so i knocked back on the office door and told them i’d managed to hurt myself and they cleaned the wound and put a bandage on it. At the time i was just bothered about the fact that i now had a massive hole in my sock. But when i felt the pain in my foot, i suddenly got very triggered into wanting to self harm.

Lets just put this into perspective for a moment, i haven’t cut in 9 and a half months. I really don’t want to cut again. People seem to think that it must get easier to not do it and think that the urge goes away until one day when you never want to cut ever again. In my experience that is complete un-utter bollocks. It never seems to get easier. It’s always like on my mind how long i haven’t done it for and most days i’m really proud of the time I’ve managed but then there’s times like this when it seems like I’ve gone 9 and a half months without breathing. And it’s really fucking hard.

It’s hard watching my scars fade and wishing i could create new ones. It’s hard thinking well you never had to go to the hospital for stitches so it was never that bad. That i never nearly died so it can’t have been ‘that serious’. It’s hard thinking that i never went really deep, that it was always manageable so why stop? I always thought i could stop whenever i wanted to. After 7 years of fighting this war i’m starting to realize that might not be true. I’ve been trying to stop pretty much since i started. And it’s a struggle every single day every time i shave my legs i think about how easy it would be to just relapse. I know in my mind it’s not a good idea and i know i shouldn’t but my rational part of my mind and what i want to do, they’re not agreeing with each other.

I feel like no matter what it will of never been enough. Like it’s only ever enough when my heart stops beating. I’ve been thinking like what’s the point in stopping, what’s the point in denying myself one of the few things that for a short time makes the voices stop, that makes the memories go away and that makes me happy. It’s the best feeling in the world for me and i love it. But i don’t want that to be it. I don’t want to be self harming for the rest of my life. I want to be worth more than the damage i can do to myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t end up cutting last night. I’m really proud that i managed to abstain, if only for another day. Every day i say no to cutting i know i say yes to life, recovery, happiness and hope. I hope i can make it a year as i think if i managed that i would feel a great sense of achievement and i know i can do it.

It’s not very often that I get triggered as bad as last night. It was seeing the blood from my foot and feeling the pain that made it feel like i was desperate. I ended up rocking back and forth asking god to give me strength and then that ended up me asking god to please just let me die if it will never get any easier. I had the razor to my leg and had some pills out in front of me. I felt so fucking weak last night. I felt as if i was fighting the great fire of London with my toothbrush. But the only thing stronger than fear, the fear that i can’t win this fight, is the hope that i can.

I’m scared that one day i’ll become to much for people to handle and they’ll walk away. Which i know rationally if people were going to walk away they would have done so years ago but it’s always there in the back of my mind. I’m scared at the prospect of moving out, at being reliant on myself. I’m scared shittless that i’ll have no life. That all i’ll ever do is just exist. It scares me that i’ll never get my animal management diploma and that i’ll be a let down. I’m scared that one day my family will bury me. It frustrates me that i have all of these fears because i should be having the time of my life. This should be my time to shine. Instead i’m spending years in and out of psych wards and cutting and throwing up. Like my mum told me she’s had to plan my funeral in her head hundreds of times in the past few years. What music would be played, the flowers. EVERYTHING! At which point it dawned upon me properly for the first time, i’m hurting everyone around me. So why can’t i stop? Why am i destined to leave a path of destruction and pain behind me? Recovery sucks hairy donkey balls.

Mental illness doesn’t stop for the festivities. It never takes a break. It’ll kick you down when you least expect it. It’ll kill you if you let it. So you have to fight every single day, possibly for the rest of your life. But if that’s what keeps you breathing, then breathe.

Merry fucking Christmas.

With love and dinosaur hugs.

Alanis x