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.

Don’t Sabotage Yourself

You know that moment when you’re blindsided and everything falls apart?

Literally everything. You think you have a shaky grasp on certain aspects of your life. The things you should be able to control.

Poof it’s gone.

How did it happen? How did you get here?

No. Really. It’s about what will you do.

Now.

Sabotage.

Sabotage.

Sabotage. My natural instinct. Well fuck everything else has shattered. It’s only time till those last shards fall. Why not just sweep them away on my terms.

I should be able to control something.

Sabotage and its seductive voice. Calling to me.

They say good things come to those who wait. The tortoise beats the hare. The good always prosper. Good trumps evil. Every other cliche.

Well what the fyzk. I’m here waiting.

Because having anorexia wasn’t horrible enough. And anxiety. Several kinds. OCD behaviors. Oh PTSD. Invalidating environments throughout life [including now]. Chronic pain.

Suffering from those alone is enough to make some people kill themselves.

So why, why does life or G-d or insert deity of choice keep throwing shit my way?

The one thing I have left is PC and our wedding. The wedding [date] I had planned was just taken away from me today by today’s events.

Because working in my hostile environment with a bullying and harassing boss wasn’t enough I’m being forced to quit. I need insurance so marriage is not going to be when I wanted it. Loss. This equals me questioning my life and existence.

How could someone be allowed to exist like that? And why targeting me?

Clearly I’m not worthy. Of life or existence. Because I keep getting up and the shot trying to knock me down keeps getting worse.

I can’t have control over even one aspect of my life like my own. fucking. Wedding.

Let’s sabotage what’s left: PC.

Don’t. Sabotage.

They have won with everything else. They got your wedding. Job. Money. Soul. Health.

But they can’t have PC and your love.

For One Night…

… Let’s pretend to be normal.

Anything but what we are.

Life is Just Such a…

Bitch.

I have been so stressed out!!

I had a major recertification that is beyond complicated to achieve.

I received the materials to prep around the time I had the stomach flu. That’s the amount of time needed to prep–a month. But I couldn’t because, well, I was extremely sick. Shit I still have gastritis! Add to that this never ending work stress!

I received a lot of hassle and grief for taking the two days off for the recertification course! Um…. Hello yall do stuff for your licenses so yall know! It’s a convenience to them when I am and am not a nurse. Cassie don’t play those games…..

Well needless to say I thought, knew, I was going to fail due to my lack of prep time. Coming home exhausted after work didn’t help.

Thanks to a miracle, I passed! Better yet, I passed the written on the first time! [First time I took it I failed the written and had to retake the written portion–only passed my skills practicum].

I was shocked! I was ecstatic! Not that I am not smart and capable, but everything was stacked against me!

I was high this weekend….sailing. A huge weight was off my shoulders. Confidence renewed.

Went into work like, “I can tolerate this because I am worthy even if they don’t recognize or appreciate me.”

And then the email came.

Our institution is terminating people. Out of the blue. No one knows who or why. Well why is “budget” but you don’t know if your job is safe. They are eliminating positions. More like the rationale of the positions cut.

I’m scared and anxious.

No one knows and tomorrow is D-day. It is a week long thing.

Will I ever get to live outside of crisis mode?!?! I mean this is not for lack of trying!!

Fuck you life. Just. Fuck. You!!!!!!!!

Insight

Alright. So the past few days I have had increasing panic and anxiety. So much so the attacks are much more frequent as in they are occurring again.  I find myself with the jiggly foot and leg again.

So how is it that I missed these signs? I noticed them. I remember being like, wow I am having increasing amounts of anxiety and panic attacks.

I noticed how I am becoming very influenced emotionally by what I am reading… again. I feel my mood is off–like I am depressed and I am not sure.

I should be excited!

PC is doing a birthday countdown for me!!

Tomorrow I am getting away from it all for my birthday with two of my best friends. Vegas! Where I am always so happy!!

And yet I have been so anxious.

I went on Facebook to upload the Disneyland photos and I debated tagging PC. I was not sure if he would be upset or if it would cause drama because of family, etc. I was trying to be considerate.

I went over to his page [I am fully aware he does not frequent it often] to see how many friends he has to see if I would blend in. There it catches my eye: one very happy PC with his ex girlfriend. She still has his pictures tagged. No they aren’t friends but now she can stalk him.

Now when I broke up with my ex, I deleted all of our pictures. I untagged him and deleted them. I had five years worth of photos.

PC’s ex has not touched them. I think she still has the feels for him. So what has been ruminating this week? Oh that his ex is still in love with him. And that she might try and steal him back…again.

Add that to the cray.

So last night I have a heart to heart with PC. I tell him what I had to say aloud more for myself than him: that I do not believe in the whole “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” mantra. I believe in utter honesty in my relationships.

I do not cheat. Even when I am wasted, I cannot do it.

It was a great convo. He trusts me. I still feel off. I somehow bring up how I am excited to go and eat which is huge and a first for me.

PC takes it and rolls with it: let’s  make a lifestyle change.

Long story short I flip out because I feel like he thinks the cure for anorexia and my life problems is just move to Vegas. But cannot get a nursing job there….I have tried. Another story.

I go to bed tense. I know he was cranky because it was wayyy late for him and shit went down at work and he got called back in. But still.

So today I ended up taking it out on him. I brought up the ex pics. That she’s  cute. [Not really I am wayyyyy cuter but she is thinner]. How I am upset. How he seems happier… but seriously he does!!!

He is patient and reminds me I cannot measure his happiness and he is much happier with me. He is convinced that she hates him and that she must have forgotten about those pictures which is why she did not untag him. Um, no. She is 25 years old. She is tech savvy so she knows what she is doing and I guarantee she still wants him and is stalking him. That is why she still has his pictures on her page. That is why he is still tagged. But he wants to think otherwise. I know better having been cheated on, now I am suspicious. Ho in different area code?

I had to take some time to ponder.

Why am I so fucking off? Why am I flipping out? How did I lose control and let that question slip? What is wrong with me?!?!?

Then it dawns on me.

I have not really eaten today as I am heading for my wax. Why not? Oh Ed’s voice silently slipped in and took control.

I am going to Vegas. Where I plan on drinking. Ingesting calories. Not caring and planning out the calories. This scares the shit out of me. Going clubbing with thinner girls. Competing for attention. Wearing a bathing suit. I do feel bolder in Vegas and will wear some more baring clothes but thanks to sickness I have not danced so my core is weak and my lordosis is back and I look pregnant. Hot. 

I am going feeling and looking fat and pregnant. Planning out fatty meals [okay just 3 meals a day, snacks, and alcohol]. 

Normally I starve myself beforehand to negate the calories I am about to ingest…and to make it so I get drunk faster.

And I am fighting this urge so hard. I am trying to continue eating. I swung by Jamba Juice and grabbed my anorexia crisis smoothies and went for it. Get it in. Must break the habit.

As I am fighting this horrid and horrible urge–Ed’s voice–this inner struggle and battle that I have habitually done for over 10 years, I lose control over everything else. Something has to give.

The struggle to eat and fight the thoughts that I am bingeing drains so much energy that my wise mind is out the window. So emotions go crazy.

Hence the crap with PC.

Hence why I want to cry.

Oh ya, and my birthday is Friday.

The ultimate reminder of rejection. The day where everyone in my life, family  included, forgets it is my birthday. I feel so insignificant, worthless, rejected.

I hate it. I hate my birthday.

I always end up crying. I always end up wanting to know why I am not good enough.

I always wonder why I am expected to remember everyone else’s birthday–go out of my way to celebrate theirs–and no one can send a fucking text or email; call. A card even!!!

I live the PLUR lifestyle. But my birthday makes me so angry as a defense mechanism because it covers up the hurt and pain of rejection.

My significant anorexia trademarks: rejection, worthlessness, just wanting to be validated.

It is my birthday. I do not want to cry. I want to be loved. I want to be recognized. But I do not want to, nor should I have to, ask for it.

And all of this. All of this is why I am so off this week. My mind and body just automatically goes to shut down during my birthday week and I missed it.

Ed’s voice slipped in and took full control.

And I am not sure if it is worth the battle, at least for my birthday, to fight Ed’s voice.

Because Some People Are Just

fucked.

No matter what I do. No matter how optimistic. No matter how paranoid or superstitious  I am [wearing a perceived lucky belly button ring]. No matter how genuinely kind, considerate, compassionate I am. No matter how much good I have put into the world because I think it is the right thing to do not because I do it as a trade off. No matter that I suffer from anorexia and 5738194 issues.

I still cannot win at life.

No. I did not get the job.

I did not get the call while I was on my Disney trip. On the day she swore by. As the hours ticked by, my heart cracked. I had gotten my heart set on it. It felt different. I was convinced this was it. 2015 is my year: things will happen for ME!!

FUCK it is happening for everyone else who has suffered less atrocities in life in my life. Why can I not have this ONE?!??!

So we head back to the hotel for a nap and I check my email…because I have learned human nature dictates they call with good news, email bad news. And there it was. The director wants someone with a little more experience.

I could not even drink because the damn plane trip triggered the positional vertigo in my head. Fabulous. I couldn’t cry because my family is there.

And one does not simply cry at the happiest place on Earth.

PC was amazing and supportive.

I developed a huge rash all over my body because I forgot how allergic I am to pretty much all sunscreens. Then the heat made it worse. Sexy. 

Cindy doesn’t want to talk to me unless it is positive like Disney was this amazing positive experience–not what I had: my grown adult sister throwing child temper tantrums because she does not get her way several times a day. Then my mom following suit.

I have anorexia. I have limited safe foods and places to eat. Fuck Cassie. I finally got the courage to basically tell them to fuck off and do the parks on my own. So scary for me. So proud of me for doing it on my own for the first time ever. So sad it happened this way. My dad realized how ridic they were and would join me about an hour later. Just so juvenille. Clearly not what Cindy wanted to hear.

Sorry my life is not picture perfect like everyone thinks it should be? Or like how I glossed it over for 28 years?

Yay for an upcoming birthday?

My light is gone. My purpose is gone. It was my last hope. I am running out of money thanks to my boss switching my hours and making it impossible for me to leave.

And all the while things keep getting worse.

I kept trying to stay positive before being like, “this is G-d giving me the last bits of negative before this amazing nursing job positive where I can finally have money and afford food and healthcare, leave my family behind, rely on no one ever, and leave the toxicity of my job and family!!”

Sick joke.

Some people are just fucked. No matter who they are and what they do.

I can see why depressed people end their lives. What’s the point of living if you know your life is on repeat–destined to watch cruel cheaters get what you deserve? No matter your interventions.

Too bad I am Jewish and I could never do it knowing how the Holocast took the lives from those who wanted it so bad. I just could not dishonor them nor dishonor all those who die so early.

In Sickness

I have quite a bit to say.

I had my interview. I wanted to discuss how that went. How they told me they want to hire me but next week they will call officially. How I was ecstatic because I felt like for the first time in years people saw me for me and appreciated me for me.

Discuss how PC came to take me out to dinner to celebrate the accomplishment of getting an interview–and brought flowers!! A total keeper!!

That as PC and I were leaving we ran into my mom where she told me a story that is so fucked up I am still so agitated by it. This story is about my current institution seriously using and abusing me to the point of fradulently taking credit for me. It is quite a story.

To discuss how my mom told me that while this job might really want me, the institution they fall under might not allow them to hire me because I am a new grad RN who falls out of the one year mark and thus does not meet their criteria–no matter how amazing I am. Or how bad this department wants me. So I cannot get my hopes up too high because even though they want me politics could once again come and fuck me. Nothing is real until the contract is signed.

But I am sick.

AGAIN

I am convinced I had a sinus infection previously  that caused the “positional vertigo” a few weeks back. And now thanks to the stress of everything, it has all caught up to me.

I caught myself having had nothing but a forced shaked the day of the interview. Sick and tired. And anxious obvi.

Then last night it hit hard. Pounding headache. Congested sinuses. Blocked ears.

I am so damn tired of being sick!!! I want to be healthy so I have energy to blog about the aforementioned things in detail!! To have energy!

Today I drank 5 liters of water and peed probably 6 times.

I cannot be sick before my big Disney trip!!!!!!!!

But in sickness I must keep going. Nothing ever stops.

Because when we have an eating disorder, we are always sick, aren’t we?

Sick to our stomach–or so we tell people so we will not eat.

Sick to our stomach because we are refeeding.

Sick from malnutrition.

Sick from the voices in our heads telling us we are not good enough and never will be.

Sick of how we are treated but never allowed to have an opinion.

Just plain sick.

But we always carry on. Because we are always in sickness.

Always in sickness but never in health.

I’m Ready to Talk

It has been one hellacious week. 

Because suffering from anorexia isn’t bad enough. Along with all the other behavioral and mental health struggles [see my pages].

I started the week pretty well I guess. Tried to get everything off my chest about what to do since Cherry is leaving for a month-she is getting married. I’m so excited for her!! Granted I’m left in a lurch but this will give me a good idea how dependent on her I really am. Maybe I don’t need her and can break away. 

We parted on: if you get the interviews it means you get the job yay! If not, we pull you and put you on medical leave of absence. Cool. No more toxic work where I want to kill and hurt myself at work. Where they tell me I’m worthless there. Sounds good. So I’m thinking I’ll go back to intensives with her where we do food exposures. Keep up with 3 days, maybe add another.

Her plan? Oh she casually mentions sending me to an eating disorder treatment program. Ya know, where they eat meals together in the evenings. 5 days a week. 

Hold the fucking phone. 

I just completed my one year of group, as agreed upon, so I wouldn’t have to go to an eating disorder treatment facility. 

We argued extensively over it originally and it ended with it would only get worse because I’m the fat anorexic and I will trigger patients. Just what they need. Just what my rejected barely understood ego needs.

My current food struggles are stress related and anxiety driven. And throwing me in those programs will make me so self conscious I will ultimately relapse there and not eat. Seems ass backwards but I know myself and they would be detrimental to me. I will not fit in to their eating programs. I already don’t fit into the mold of an anorexic so I won’t fit into the mold for treatment plans. I’d be happy with the shakes.

But shipping me halfway across the state?! 

Away from my small minuscule support?! Pull the trigger you’ve got the loaded gun pointing at my head already!!!

So now I’m struggling with picking the lesser of two evils.

Fuck my life.

Then Wednesday morning.

I’m at PC’s place. He has already left for work and I’m just in his bed happy as a clam. I’m lying on my left side watching Daria on Netflix [ugh I LOVE it!!] and have been in the same position for like 20 minutes not moving, when the room violently spins to the right in a full circle. I can’t stop it. I realize I’m conscious, can move my extremities, my eyes were open the whole time, and my heart rate is up because I’m scared shitless. It lasted about 5 seconds. I wait a few seconds, calm down and roll over to grab my phone. I am painfully aware how I’m alone and naked in PC’s bed. It happens again but not as strong and for 2 seconds. I reassess myself and call my dad. Thank g-d he is retired. I establish its not a stroke but it could be a TIA. I’m also thinking maybe a seizure. I’m on sooo many meds right now [literally 2 years ago no meds, now 5] that have potential for serotonin syndrome/stroke/seizure I’m like aw crap. I’m also thinking great my sodium is so low I seized it’s a sign. 

My dad surprisingly questions me on my eating and drinking. It had been fairly decent so that’s not the issue. I still grabbed a banana nut muffin and ate that, sat up for like 30 minutes, and drove home. I just wanted to be near someone in case it happened again. 

I got home and did not have any more spins, I was really dizzy, had a crushing headache in the frontal and occipital regions [front and back of my head] and severe nausea unlike the eating disorder kind that made me puke after being in the car. I don’t do the vomit thing very well. And being on Topamax for the facial pain which I think is related to the sinus issues of allergies, I’m not supposed to feel any facial pain or headaches. This breakthrough pain is bad…way very bad.

I was frightened to say the least. I packed my bags expecting to be hospitalized and decided between ER and doctor office.

I called my doctor’s office and they got me in in their express care clinic. I saw a nurse practitioner. I was pumped because I’m team NP. He was clearly second career for cash NP and fresh out of school NP. He was so damn dumb. I ended up telling him he was wrong. He was like asking me if I should go to the ER. I was like I’m here to ask YOU if I should be there. He didn’t even look in my ears and claimed to give me a full physical. Then pronounced my diagnosis as positional vertigo. He gave me Meclizine for the nausea. No origin. NO way to resolve issue at hand. Just another med. No tests or bloodwork.

Total moron.

I have been way off all week. 

Feeling sick. Eating is gross. I feel and look fat. I was supposed to be running but that’s gone. So angry. PC has been great support.
Then I find out via my mom who dug that the job I applied for and have been waiting to hear one? Well they canceled it. It was a training program and there were 4 applicants total so they felt it was not enough to warrant fiscally to keep it so they cancelled it. 

But they still haven’t told me.

I found out on Friday. 30 minutes before PC was coming over for family dinner to meet my mom for the first time. I cried. Now I’m stuck with this MLOA possibility–that hell where Cherry just gets rid of me. I feel like utter shit. I’m so trapped. 

What a crappy week.

My dad was kind enough to drive me because I did not want to take any chances. So I was lucky to have him and relax and mentally prep to and from work. 

I got into a fight with PC today. Our first fight. He tried to fix something because it’s his nature. I, like some people I follow on here [K], self sabotage. And feeling like shit while in a hostile toxic environment? Well my guard was down and I couldn’t fight the urges to self sabotage and end it. I just feel like I’m not good enough.

My life is such shit. Trapped in a dead end job. Can’t even get my trained for healthcare job.

Overqualified for everything else.

Making no money and can’t do anything. Living with my parents and caring for them. I want to live my life worth living. And I feel like that will never ever happen. I feel like PC is ashamed of me and deems me lazy because he doesn’t understand how difficult it is in this state to get a nursing job no matter how smart and qualified you are. I am tired of explaining it to people. That was our fight.

We are fine. I’m on edge. My plate is still way too full. I need to get the hell out of my job. And it seems my one resource out is no longer there.

Countdown to my Disney trip. That eating experience stresses me out enough as is. I’ll blog on that too. But what if the vertigo is still here and I can’t do anything?

Because my life fucking sucks.

As if struggling with anorexia isn’t enough. And anxiety.