Archive | July 2015

I’m In Trouble

Today was yet another reminder of how I have a problem.

Today is my 6 month anniversary as a couple with PC. We have been dating for 7 months but it’s been 6 months as boyfriend and girlfriend. This is a huge deal for me.

I have been waiting for this moment for a while. A nice romantic evening the two of us. He picked and planned a restaurant. I have seen a pink package at his place and I have been pestering him about it for a week now.

My anxiety amounted to the plans for him to drop me off at my house after the date. It is a full moon and I have another picked up shift tomorrow. Me. Turning down a chance to spend any extra time with him. And sex!!! On our special anniversary!!!!! I’m shutting down.

Then today I realized I had no drive to get out of bed to eat. I stayed in bed. This ridiculous heat and humidity right now is killing me…especially since we do not have air conditioning. I feel fatter, sweatier, disgusting, gross, lazy, tired. All drive is gone. Let alone drive to force feed myself. I am agitated because I could not run either because of this heat–it is only cool when the sun has set–so basically 9:30 at night. Too late.

Forcing myself to eat was so hard. Cooking is out because it generates heat. I am not allowed fridge space right now because well my mother is just plain manipulative and controlling. So I managed to eat graham crackers with peanut butter and then a mini yogurt today. And I felt like it was a lot. Not good.

I got dressed and pretty. I put on a dress that I had planned on. I avoided looking at myself in the mirror because I could not handle it–instead focusing on small 1inch squares at a time.

I did notice, however, that this dress was much looser tonight then when I put it on in Vegas a month ago. Yet my jeans are tighter. How does that even work?!?!

I still felt huge.

PC surprised me with such a romantic gesture: the same restaurant where he took me and asked me to be his. Which coincidentally is my favorite restaurant.

And yet I could barely eat that much.

This is a place that I am a bottomless pit at. But tonight I felt full and disgustingly so. Even with alcohol on board.

I am worried. It is the split personality  all over again: sanity versus the insanity of Ed’s voice. Trying to be rationale against anorexia. To turn off the luring and seductive sound of Ed’s voice.

And all day today and even now I am battling whether or not to call in sick to work tomorrow and the rest of this weekend. I do not want to deal. It is too much. I cannot handle it. I just want to avoid it.

The perk of going is air conditioning, not dealing with my mother and not being yelled at by my therapists.

This is how I know I am in trouble.

This Is What It Feels Like

Sometimes losing yourself just feels good. 

It scares other people.

shhh dont tell them.

This is why eating disorders are secrets!

But this is what happens when one descends into the arms of Ed.

You wanted to know? Didn’t you? Isn’t that why you read this? 

Here it is. This is what it feels like; this is what it looks like. this is my dual mind–my split personality. But Ed’s voice has won so those thoughts are dominant.

How do I feel?

Worthless. Hopeless. Like a total failure. I don’t want to be alive in a world where bullies/evil/negative wins out over caring/kind/hardworking. No matter how much good I do because it is right, I am punished. I watch as others around me who are undeserving are promoted. I have suffered more than anyone should ever have to. I am tired of fighting this battle. I am tired of being the happy positive one in such a horribly toxic world. It literally kills me. This is me dying. Again.

I am back to where I was in 2013. Nothing has changed and yet everything has.

Therapy this week was not pretty. Promises to tell them if I have urges to kill myself; more than my thoughts. Contracts, plans, look into my dark side. While I am a very positive rainbow glitter spitting person, there is a dark side that is hidden beneath all of it; and usually stays that way.

But the past week’s events cracked my dark shell. It released Ed’s voice. The rain is back. I am going under, I am going under, I am going under and I can’t turn around. Can’t turn around.

What does this mean?

I feel so alone.

I don’t want anyone talking me out of my feelings and thoughts. PC watched me cry and he felt helpless and I hate him feeling that. I don’t want him to. This is why I suffer in silence.

I hate people who need attention and seek it out. Currently battling that with other family members; attention seeking drama queens.

No one will believe me until I am dead.


My obsessions are high. I have to do the compulsions. Just to please Ed.

These currently are:

  • Listening to triggering music
  • Doing triggering things even though I know I shouldn’t 
  • Obsessively watching a tv show in a binge: currently it is the OC. If I hit Skins there is no coming back this time
  • Organizing
  • Picking and pinching 
  • Anxiety twitching 
  • Walking into the kitchen and staring at food. If I am unable to find something instantaneously, walk away and not eat.
  • Appetite is gone so touching food feels really dirty; so does thinking about it. Washing my hands incessantly.
  • Drinking a lot of water
  • Taking a lot of naps

    Sitting in my room with my glitter lamp on feels like sex.

    I know it sounds bizarre.

    But not eating. It feels right. doing all these things? They feel good. Better than good. They feel orgasmically right with everything!!! I do them and I feel a sense of peace.

    Listening to this triggering relapse music right now? It reminds me of a night summer 2013. I drank. A lot. I had let Ed in and let Ed have control. We listened to a certain music playlist. It felt so right. All was right. I was wasted. I had escaped. We danced around under the stars.

    This music helps me escape.

    Ed’s voice helps me escape.

    As I finish this, tears run down my face. I don’t even know why.

    I have escaped. This time without drugs or alcohol.

    I don’t need it. I have Ed.

    Taste of Normalcy

    I work weekends.

    I am a social pariah.

    For ~7 years I have rarely been a part of normal society as I have been working. I have been off for major events: weddings, my birthday, and ya that is it.

    Today I had a Saturday off. The last Saturday I had off was technically my Vegas birthday trip, but that was all planned out and a trip.

    But today I was a part of normal society.

    I have hella PTO–too much honestly. Do I decided to take the whole day off for Little Man’s birthday party.

    Oh the things y’all take for granted!! I was so excited!!!

    PC let me sleep in!! I was ecstatic to sleep in on a Saturday!!!

    We went for brunch/breakfast!! Something I have been fantasizing about for years.

    So normal.

    But when you do not get to partake it is HUGE!!

    The party was a blast!

    My little nephew was adorable with his cake. I caught it all on camera. PC was there and enjoyed every minute of it. It was magical. I loved sharing it with him.

    We came home and decided on movie snacks and a movie at home. Because we can!!! Because I have energy to!

    Such a big deal!!

    It is so weird to have this!

    This taste of normalcy is great!!

    It makes me appreciate what I have been and am still missing.

    But it makes me sad and jealous at all that I have missed and am still missing  because I am still in my job. 

    It makes it harder for me to go back. As if the toxicity was not bad enough.

    I feel so isolated as it is but this taste of normalcy really makes me feel extremely isolated.

    I am missing out on major life events and bonding opportunities. I hate this. I do not know how much longer I can take this.

    I had my taste of normalcy and I want more.


    Here is a possible shocker. It’s food.

    Weird, right? The anorexic is obsessed with food!!

    It is actually normal.

    Well anyways.

    In the previous few posts, I had been establishing how I am relapsing; I am downward spiraling. It is not pretty or fun.

    Well some things are–increase in sex drive if PC would give it to me and the hypomania.

    Anyways I am celebrating my nephew’s first birthday this weekend. I have several tasks which I am taking pride in–almost like showing off like I am not a fuck up…like I am capable.

    This, by the way, is Cindy’s son that we are celebrating.

    I had four tasks: 1) create the goody bags in the theme [Mickey Mouse], 2) put the goodies in said bags, 3) bake Mickey krispie treats for goody bags [and I was going to make extras for display… to brag and show off on my abilities, and 4) make macaroni and cheese for 40+ people. Yes it is a large first birthday party.

    The bags turned out. Since I am in the throes of relapse, my OCD and type A personality feel it is not what I envisioned, but Cindy thinks they are cute and my mom adores them.

    But to me they are not good enough.

    Then today was to be my baking day. I was to knock out mac n cheese and the treats. Not hard, right?

    Way wrong. Way the fuck wrong.

    I already feel overwhelmed that I have an extra shift tomorrow. It is really throwing me off. Add to that this weekend I will be spending two nights in a row with PC…and that time straight with him. From Friday evening until I work Sunday. We have not done that yet. Anxiety: boom.

    The macaroni and cheese was a shit show for my OCD and type A: all went wrong. Lesson here: Cassie is never baking for 40 people, from scratch, ever again. The roux fought me. The milk hated me. The ingredients. The stove. Gah. Burnt. It did not taste the way I expected or hoped.

    It is not perfect. It is supposed to be perfect. It has to be perfect.

    I failed. And in front of all those people. And PC who is going. It is a big deal that he was invited!!

    I had a major panic attack because of all of it. It took 5 hours. How is that even possible?!?!???!?!?

    Too much. Normally my obsession with food LOVES working with food and serving it to others; never eating it. This was too much. I freaked.

    I really lost my appetite from all of this.

    I also lost my ability to force through and make the treats. All my energy was gone. It was draining.

    The one thing I was looking forward to doing because everyone would talk about how cute they are, how skilled I am, and all that positive recognition and validation–what I need right now. Gone.

    I think I am honestly more let down than Cindy is!! I was really looking forward to it! But I do not have time with work tomorrow.

    That fucking macaroni amd cheese which is not even good ruined my chances at spotlight. At possible requests for party planning and getting asked to do stuff like that for others.

    But mainly show my skills, creativity, and talents. Stand out and not because I am fat.


    My food obsessions just gah.

    So draining.

    And the work week has not started yet.