Tag Archive | failure

Too Much for One Title

I have kept myself alive.

This has been huge considering the events of the past few weeks.

I have not sabotaged. I have not succumbed to Ed’s voice let alone what I feel like the universe keeps trying to tell me.

I am struggling with the whole eating thing but I am doing some of it. There are days when I feel I have no purpose in life but I find purpose in the day.

I always thought I was at the lowest point in a career. I thought that it could not get worse because I never thought people could behave any worse than what I experienced.

My previous job was horrid. When I left it I thought, phew it could never be this bad anywhere else.

Universe was like: challenge accepted!

So the past few years, this lady, one who has never let anyone/anyplace/anything change who she is; changed by a department.

It literally ate at my soul.

Yes. They do exist.

Outside of this blog world, I am a very happy and positive person. I never want people to experience anything I ever had nor do I think that people deserve my “wrath” unless they truly do something morally injust or ethically wrong to get it. This place is the inside of my head.

My workplace? They thrived on trying to bring me down. For several years, I was bullied and harassed on a daily basis. Sometimes by staff who came and went, but always by these 2 people old enough to be my mothers. I always tried to understand what could drive someone to be so cruel; to do what they do. A psychopathic person has more rationale than these two. At least it’s in their head.

They thrived on making my life miserable from stealing my things to actually deleting my work [in Healthcare that’s baaaaad] and falsifying claims saying I did not do it. Mainly because I made them look bad.

I ignored it. But it got to a head.

We got a new manager. Because yes our entire department in the few years I’ve been there has gone through several FULL staff turnovers and 6 managers. Say something?

I stupidly stuck through it. I tried to leave multiple times but the patients begged me to stay. And there was something more complicated but my concern had me stay a bit longer at one point.

Well this new manager decided they hated me for who knows what. They made no effort to actually know me. Considering I kept their department afloat, started two committees, and was head of several massive board projects you think I’d be one to know.

They publicly threatened several times over my job.

For several months I cried every day.

Why was I not good enough? I work my ass off. I sacrifice myself. I follow all the rules. I am opening a new sub department for them.

I. Am. A. Good. Person.

But that doesn’t mean good things will happen to you. That is not reality.

This manager threatened to terminate me on falsified information by one of the older ladies who bullied me. While this manager was part of the constant bullying and harassing, they kept making me look like a fool even to our patients whom in return despised this new manager.

I quit.

It was the hardest decision, by far, I have ever made in my life.

I walked away.

I left patients in harms way. But I, too, was being threatened and harmed.

In trauma, we are taught to do what’s best for the greater good. If I can’t even take care of myself…how am I to take care of the greater good?!

My constant self sacrifice was taken advantage of and abused to the max.

No more.

My family and friends begged me to quit. One cried on the phone with me to quit. And so I did.

A week later, and more trauma from the event later, I realized why it’s been so hard.

I have been in abusive relationships: dating, family, friends. I have also grown up in a world of invalidation. This job was just that. It was an extremely abusive relationship. Until I was out, I could not see it. I tried to leave but it did not work. The cold cut quit is what did it.

Given my history of PTSD, this has been a rough few weeks. A TON of nightmares and terrors. I am barely sleeping.

The trauma exposure only recently ended 3 days ago…. And frankly it’s probably not over yet. I couldn’t even get a clean fucking cut.

But I am still alive. I am keeping myself alive. Fuck am I a survivor.

It would be nice to have some control over my life at some point in time, for once. I’m tired of having to be hopeless and let whatever happen to me happen.

For now, baby steps.

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For One Night…

… Let’s pretend to be normal.

Anything but what we are.

Let’s Call It A Comeback

While I’ve been crafting my multiple tales behind the scenes to release unto you [ooo so fancy sounding] life clearly keeps happening. Anorexia and anxiety don’t just disappear. Those who are cured I am disgustingly envious of.

Again, I am a lifer.

I may have learned to cope with it and how to “interact” with anorexia and anxiety, but I will never be cured. Alas, my only cure is death. And while I have begged for it at times and needed it as well, I could never do it.

I digress.

I have been struggling a lot lately with stress and eating. I’m doing decently in the sense I’m eating at least one meal a day. This is major for me. It’s not like I’m actively trying to avoid it; I have no hunger instinct so I can go a whole day without even noticing I have not consumed anything. It’s bad.

My job is unnecessarily stressful. A post to come. But I also have a new stress trigger that is really driving Ed’s voice into overdrive. It will come out in another post, but let’s just say there is an extreme amount of pressure on how I will look and eyes will be on me.

OH heyyy Ed! Edie, you’re here, too?! Omg it’s a party!!

Let’s throw in all that PTSD training trying to counteract all that. Mmmm joy.

A few months ago I was cleared to return to the gym. After 2 years of physical injury. And 1.5 years before that of restriction for therapy.

Just a reminder, I have hypergymnasia: I have spent excessive amounts of time at the gym in an attempt to lose weight. It was my purge. And when I go to the gym, I lose myself and all sense of time. It’s a total mindfuck to be honest.

The last time I was in a gym, ugh I was so unhealthy!!! I had just broken my ankle and shoulder. And I was at the gym running on the treadmill while in pain. That was 2 years ago OH SHIT TO THIS WEEK!!!

Well, I made plans with one of my besties to return to the gym. Part of my recovery contingencies [for life] is I’m not allowed to workout alone. We were supposed to go last week and again Monday.

I got so anxious I panicked and canceled.

Between the stress of work and this pressure to be thin, I did the healthy thing and did not go.

I know if I went, I would be starting under the wrong intentions and it would be downhill from there. My bestie knows everything that’s going on and has been so supportive.

So today we went. And I was so anxious. And scared.

I was worried I was too fat in the gym outfit I had. I was honestly fearful of the judgment by people at the gym. I was scared I would lose control. I was afraid I would spiral; that Ed would slide into control.

What I was most fearful of? My injuries being so bad that they would incapacitate me from doing the exercises I know and love. And I would have lost my identity.

Good news: the broken shoulder has healed enough through physical therapy that I was able to do the exercises I have done in the past!! I actually cried at the gym. The ankle has as well.

Bad news: I can’t turn off the hypergymnasia. My beastie turned to me and was like we have been here an hour time to go. I honestly thought it had been 10 minutes.

Absolutely no concept of time. It’s scary. I could end up hurting myself again. Breaking something. Or, as Eddie points out, getting fatter because I am working out too much without enough caloric intake.

I gain weight when I stop eating. I am am atypical anorexic due to years of anorexia and no formal treatment till my late twenties.

I feel disgusted by myself for feeling pleasure in the muscle burn and stamina I have. It’s not because I’m healthier than I thought but for the idea I can keep pushing myself harder.

But dammit, this is a massive comeback!! Literally years in the making.

Cassie is back at the gym. My happy place. Under supervision of a bestie. Without therapy support. Trying to do this the right way.

Here’s a big challenge!!

Where to Start?!

This is my return.

I’m overwhelmed with what to say. Like where to start.

There has been so many changes in my life over the past 7 months. I wanted to write as they happened. It helps me process and feel. Experience the moment as they say in DBT.

Thanks to fear and trying to protect my anonymity, I had to give time in-between some significant events so that I cannot be identified.

I have followed of you and am so proud of you. Your accomplishments and strides you are making. These struggles are so. Real.

I guess the first biggest struggle, which will be my first focus, is I completed, and graduated from the Trauma Therapy.

As in I had no choice they basically told me, in one month we are cutting you free because that’s the end goal. After 4 years of intensive therapy. To nothing.

Oooo plot twist?!

A Pocket Full of Fails

Well it’s just how it feels.

And will keep feeling as long as I’m in my invalidating and toxic work environment.

Funny how I flit from one toxicity to the next.

I tried to leave for the better to only end up worse. Ya, it was possible. At least here I’m not throwing up and crying before shifts. Maybe because I’m so numb?

Well, needless to say, by chance of miracles or what, I landed an interview recently.

I feel like it was due in part to a favor to my mother but I’m grateful nonetheless! For it was an interview in a position I’m trained for.

I nailed the phone interview. Felt rock solid. And I usually rock interviews. Never have had an issue.

I always get the offer in the end….it’s just the whole wait for a contract that was promised and it never come.

Well, the timing of this couldn’t be better. Everything is spiraling at work and no amount of DBT skills can salvage.

Yet when I had the interview, face to face, I just feel like I failed. Like I was throwing fails around by fistfuls out of my pockets.

My answers were not as solid as I usually have them. I couldn’t focus it.

I couldn’t sell myself.

Especially when:

“Your resume is very impressive, seriously, but I see here you were licensed in xx so how come you have not held a job [using said license]”

OK too complex to get into it on here without giving away a lot of identifiers… But just know this… No it is not me. Basically society fucking sucks and so does the economy. My resume would make you vomit because it’s so impressive.

But I sacrificed everything and couldn’t get the job because I wclearly as the wrong place wrong time. And in some cases, had some employers tell me I was too fat [while they had 100lbs on me] yes it’s illegal but California gets away with a looooot of shit mang.

I also had to keep working to pay, you know, bills? I have never had anyone to take care of me like that. But California apparently expected that.  It’s ridiculous. It’s ludicrous.

Thus my job intimidated others because they thought I’d be bored….

Why doesn’t anyone ask me?!

Wellllll here I sit. I had to delicately and politely answer the question. With couth. Head held high as I was yet again reminded of allll the times I was never good enough.

I walked out just knowing that when I needed something the most, again, I failed. I can’t have it.

And all because someone does not believe in me.

Again.

Stay tuned I have not been officially rejected it’s just how I’m feeling. Don’t want to get my hopes up because I would be beyond devastated to lose it again.

Time Summary

I took some blog time off since my grandma died.

I always thought that when I started this blog two things would happen: 1) I would find catharsis and 2) I would inspire people and have hundreds if not a thousand readers–touching their lives because they, too, were plagued by the same issues.

I keep finding heartbreak that I do not have the hundreds of readers–I always see a surge when I hit a stride of what might seem like proana content but I am trying to prove the struggles of anorexia. Then those readers always disappear within months, as most eating disorder followers do.

So, I need to focus on this as my catharsis.

But it feels so selfish. And I struggle with that.

I also struggle with reliving the horrors of my life. I lived through it once. Why would I want to do it again, especially when my best friend, avoidance, preaches against that?

Many times I have opened the app or formulated posts in my head.

And many times I backed out because it was too much to handle.

Because, yes everyone has their shits and borrow in their life. But Cherry always reminded me that I needed to stop downplaying my own.

And I have radically accepted that my life is one dark cursed shitstorm.

  • My grandma died.
  • That coping has been rough.
  • I work with tyrrants whom have displayed the same mannerisms as my previous job. Thus it has been proven same institution, same mentality no matter the department. 
  • I have begun, and still am going through, physical therapy. 
  • I went to Disneyland with PC–so much stress because I gained weight and it turns out my shorts didn’t fit. Total melt down.
  • I relapsed again.
  • On the way down to Disbeyland, I saw a relative who is one of the biggest contributors to my anorexia. She even has written me out of her will when I was 14 years old because I couldn’t be bought off. Trying to fix it but that was intense.
  • While in Disneyland I was in the middle of an epic fight with one of my best friends: Cindy.
  • PC and I had a wonderful time! It was magical!
  • Yet I still was obsessed with food and being fat. And being in control and things being perfect.
  • The Tinkerbell 5k was beyond emotionally stressful. I had been dreaming and training for it before my injury 6 months ago. In PT they told me positively NO running. In ED therapy they told me NO running. I’m not a quitter-I finish what I start. So I decided to walk it. But when I was there, in the moment, my hypergymnasia kicked in. And I ran. I really hurt myself but I was so proud of my fat ass–I cried at the finish line. First run since November! With an entire side of my body seriously injured and lungs too. That, is anorexia.
  • Been depressed since because I can’t work out.
  • Anxiety has increased.
  • Eating has decreased.
  • PC had surgery and I was his primary caretaker.
  • I didn’t sleep for 2.5 weeks.
  • I ate fast food. First time in probably 5 years. My body fought back. I was out for 4 days. That’s anorexia.
  • My car died. Like completely. My car PTSD went through the roof. 
  • I had to buy a new [used] car. After dropping $$ on the other car for repairs because “she’s in great condition you’re fine” assholes.
  • Car PTSD.
  • Did I mention car PTSD?
  • Now I’m down hella cash and flipping the fuck out.
  • PC and I are looking at places together because in a few months we are living together.
  • I met PC’s parents.
  • Then both of our parents met.
  • I have no free time because it’s in therapy of some sort.
  • People at work keep trying to fuck me over. I wish I could explain but it would be a HIPPA violation.
  • All I want to do is sleep. Because it is lacking in my life the last few weeks.

So the current theme here: stress on stress on stress.

Just not sure where to go here. I feel like I’m drowning. And my birthday is coming up. I hate my birthday.