Archive | June 2015

If I Die Young

The Band Perry

What I never did is done
A penny for my thoughts, oh, no, I’ll sell ’em for a dollar
They’re worth so much more after I’m a goner

And maybe then you’ll hear the words I been singin’

Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin’

Was playing on the radio the other night. While I still find this song morbid, I can’t help but find solace and confort in this section of lyrics.

No one hears me on my struggles with anorexia. No one hears me on my struggles in general. No one hears my words.

But it is so true how everyone hears you when you are dead.

It should not take that, but it seems no one takes you seriously until you are dead. No one takes me seriously.

Death will probabky be when my family finally realizes that yes I do have an eating disorder. It is what killed me.



I had a very traumatic day today.

I tried to play it off that I was fine. More like I was convincing myself of it so I did not lose it. But in the end that all back fired.

I am not ok.

I am traumatized.

I do not feel safe. I feel violated.

And I am panicking. I am doing what I do best: disassociating. I am taking everything and clumping it all together and hating it all at once. Because I can.

* * * * *

It still feels dream like. I took pictures of it while it happened to prove to myself that this isn’t derealization or a hallucination: this shit is real.

Mondays are my sleep in days. I work all weekend and work late Sunday nights. I sleep till usually noon and then wake up for therapy with Cherry. 

I had some horrible nightmares. I woke up and just felt really off. I decided that while I couldn’t put a finger on it, I wasn’t going to Cherry. I emailed her and told her I could not make it in today; I had a rough and horrible work weekend and reliving it was too much. All true. But something else was wrong. I just didn’t know what.

I sent the email and while lying in bed still half awake I heard this huge crack of my backyard fence. Now it took quite a beating in a storm we had and is kinda jacked. The backyard neighbors is a renter so the landlord doesn’t care. 

I have heard the young renter complaining about the fence being jacked and his side isn’t even half as bad as the other renter’s side. 

So I figured, shit there goes the fence. It finally died. After a few minutes I looked out my bedroom window. Surveying it looked fine. But there was the young neighbor looking at it and through the fence. And he had what looked like his shirt through it. I figured, oh his punk ass trying to bring it down. 

I took my time and got out of bed. The fence still stood. I went downstairs. Although I am not talking to my dad, I woke him from his nap. This is like 1130. I told him I heard the crack of the fence and he jumps up. I explain what I saw and how I can’t believe the neighbor is being territorial now with his shirt and left it there. Should we report it? I just had this itch we needed to report it. Nah we will watch it.

So I go and make myself breakfast–food what?!? I sit down on my couch and am watching Netflix when I see outside my window the Sheriff go by towards my front door with an assault rifle. 

Uh, excuse me?!?! 

I literally watch him walk back. I drop my bagel, grab my phone and run to my dad at the other end of the house. Where we live, this is  NOT common! 

I run upstairs to my parents bedroom and look out their window. At the top of our driveway is posted 6 squad cars from different varieties of police sectors and the SWAT team, even puppy police. All have assault rifles and guns out and aimed. 

What the fuck?!?!

I calmly tell my dad to get upstairs–safe return because less shots, etc. I call our city police station and find out their was an armed robbery in our neighborhood. He is considered armed and dangerous. 

What happened to the robo calls we were supposed to get?!??! Oh it came 3 minutes later at 1206. We watch it all go down. They move in.

The call tells us it is “black male who is 6’2, 24 years old [oddly specific if I do say so myself], wearing a black hoodie, armed and dangerous”. Shelter in place. Call 911 with information or to report suspicious activities.

So then my dad and I click. Oh fuck me. That fence? And sweater? That’s fucking evidence. Ya he went through our backyard and jumped our fence and he jacked it. The noise drew out the neighbor after the fact.

So I call 911. They hang up on me. I call back. “Yea I don’t know about your city issue not my problem *click*” ummmm I’m reporting evidence of an armed and dangerous person and you hung up on me?!?!?!?! Who are you?!?! How do I report YOUR ass??? 

I call the city number. At least they were nice!! After I hang up, fucking swarming my backyard. I watched them as they were clearing my backyard. Then they brought in the police puppy. He went ape shit.

Yup it was the perp’s sweater. 

I’m listening to my moronic sheriff be like, “no he is hunkered down here I know it” and the puppy police be like hella professional “I really think we need to clear that backyard and house because the dog is freaking out on the trail  over the fence and we have the sweater.”

My dad and I went down and talked to them and explained how I heard that crack… At like 1115ish. That perp has been looooong gone. It’s fucking 1255 at this point. Our sheriff department doesn’t deal with this stuff like ever.

I think it’s a drug deal gone wrong. Some guy was home and witnessed it. But how does he know this guy is 24. And why that house specifically. Just. Saying.

But I’m still freaked out. I could have been outside tanning naked. 

My house isn’t safe anymore. I feel so violated.

I’m fucking traumatized.

I took it out on PC. He didn’t call me he texted asking if I was ok. Why not call?!??! Seriously?!? How do you think I feel?! I’m holding it together for everyone else.

Our 5 month anniversary is tomorrow. I thought he was going to dump me after this weekend. I start to detach, especially with today’s activities. It’s easiest.

On the phone he thought I was going to breakup with him. 

I’m still freaking out. This is too much for me to deal with. 

I don’t know if I can put on a brave face and mask this. I’m so scared. 

I’ve accepted death. 

It can happen anytime, anywhere. I still don’t think I’ll live past 35. 

That doesn’t mean I’m not scared of the pain of being shot and killed because someone is being young and ignorant. 

PC and I are ok. I think. I need his physical hug for comfort confirmation. And I just need a hug and to cry. All this pent up masking to get through it all.

No I’m not ok. But I’m never allowed to not be ok. That’s just how it is. I have to be the strong one.

Well guess what. I am not okay people. I am traumatized.

Mish Mosh Tweedle Lee Dee

I really dont know whats going on.

im seriously on a drug trip–high mother fluffers!!! like dopamax status!!

but i dont get it. i havent changed medication doses. im not abusing my meds because i never could do that!! ativan mmmm maaaaybe. but thats it!!!

but tonight im feeling hypo. and flying. and i love it. ive done nothing different and yet it feels like when i was firsf adjusting my meds witb topamax. yeeee!!

this stuff used to freak me out. now i enjoy it because its rhe only high i can get.

but i think PC hates it.

I told him about it. it scared me at first. but when i started walking i felt like i was fliding and swimming on land. it was magical. the magic i needed after such shitty moments. well deserved. i was all smiles.

but then i opened up. too much. i got nervous and felt like he judged me when i said i was ok feeling stoned and didnt need to go to the hospital. calm down bro. so i kept talking. and about my meds. *head slap*

i think he is really upset with me and not saying anything. maybe this is the feared end. maybe no 5 months on tuesday.

we havent had sex in over 2 weeks. since i got back from vegas. uhhh im dying. i need it several times a day.

last week was excused—he was legitimately sick. plus we nearly did.

but tonight?! not even a move!!!! barely a kiss!!!! can the dumping sign be any clearer?!?!?!


i brought it up and he says its past his bedtime and he is tired.



thats how i know.

tweedle lee deedle lee. meep mop moop.

ill ride this high while it lasts. go to sleep with a smile on my face. never know when this will happen again!!

Upset with 

myself. And that bitch coworker.

Ya she was exactly as expected today. Over the top dramatic. Can’t deal!! Always trying to micromanage me because she can’t do her own job. Drives me APE!! Code here. Trauma pager goes off. Not doing her job. Has to call me to tell me what to do. Bitch I did my ish, do YOURS!! Get off your personal phone trying to sound self important!! Cause even your family is telling you off! GUH!

So I have been busy on Pinterest reorganizing and sorting out into new pin boards. Trying to stay zen. PLUR.

Reading was not going to be an option. Ativan would have put me to sleep or let my mouth become too loose.

I literally felt my head become like last night’s dream state and it was the victim mindset. Not. Good.

But right now I am upset with myself.

I forgot a change of clothes to get out of scrubs. I am headed to see PC. And only have scrubs. So all my mental preparations for food is gone. I just forgot the change of clothes in my panic of dealing with bitch this AM.

Then I got in the car and realized I had no fucking gas. And I have to definitely get gas before seeing PC. Fabulous.

Now I have to figure out where to get gas that isn’t my usual gas stations. Add time to delaying me seeing PC. Less time with him. I seriously fucked myself over! I did this to myself! So upset. So frustrated.

Can’t win with myself today. Trying to make myself happy the bad situation I am in right now. Then realizing how I screw myself just lets myself down. I failed myself when I need it the most; when I need me the most.

Dream Drunk && Anxious

1mg Ativan. In bed. Feeling dream like. Punch drunk.

Yet the anxiety of having to go to work and deal with the assholes is just too much. I got into bed 3 hours ago. Here I am still awake.

One specific person I do not want to deal with. I do not want to hear her bitching about how dare I take the weekend off for my birthday and leave her with my incompetent coworker. The one she passively aggressively has said she writes up to my bosses for the past 6 years and complains about but obviously doesn’t cause he still works the shifts.

I am done feeling guilty for taking time off and enjoying my life.

And I am concerned I might get mouthy about it because I am 7 years sick of her bullshit bitching. I cannot deal anymore.

So I am in bed. Drunk on Ativan, yet riled up and ready to cut a bitch in self defense. With words, obviously. I can’t hurt things; just myself. Even though my thoughts run rampant with dirty ideas otherwise–never could ever do more than think it and feel guilty for thinking it.

But tomorrow I could finally verbally standup for myself and politely tell her to fuck off. I feel my ovaries descending. I might be wearing them on the outside.

My mixed genetics/roots are coming out. And if instigated, I will make people cry.

It is what I am good at.

Made my first psychiatrist cry. Yes I am proud of that. Cross me far enough and I do have a backbone.

But for now, I have to get my foot to stop jiggling, enjoy the high, and sleep. Otherwise I just gave someone else amazing advice that I am not following.

fathers day or superman day



Dear fathers, if you have a child suffering with an eating disorder; here’s some advice.

  • be patient
  • be calm
  • realize your child is going to mess up over and over again
  • if your child wasn’t a liar before, he/she will become a compulsive liar soon enough with this disease
  • your child may become a secret ninja or a wonderful math wiz
  • you will always lose at hide and seek
  • do not give up on your kid no matter what
  • this disease is extremely confusing
  • don’t let your child get comfortable with the situation of the disease
  • it could be years before your child is better
  • think outside the box

One more thing, thank you to all the fathers out there going through this difficult time with your kid, it means a lot to them, to have you by their side.

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