Yesterday I cut. I got the blade and cut. Sliced it across me arm. I saw red. Blood. Dripping down my arm. The sting as I washed it. It felt good. I needed to cut. I needed to punish myself. I deserve nothing. I’m horrible. A waste of space. An awful person. Wanting to die. To fall asleep and not wake up. I deserve what hell I get. The cuts are just superficial and I’m not going to do anything silly. So please don’t worry about me. I’m not worth the thought.
So tomorrow I start eating school. In other words tomorrow is my first day as a day patient. I’ve tried twice before. And failed. So I already know what to expect. I’m going to get there and be faced with breakfast. A meal I haven’t eaten in over a month now. It’s going to be scary. It’s going to be full on. If I fail breakfast I fail at being a day patient. I have to clear it all. Finish it in 20 minutes. Otherwise I’ll be sent home. Harsh but reality. It’s happened twice before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. In fact I’m terrified! Already fretting over it. And that’s just breakfast. If I get through that I’ll be faced with snack, lunch and another snack. It’s terrifying. I haven’t even got there and already feel fat and greedy. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to manage. I really really don’t. I’m worried I’m going to be the biggest patient there. I’m worried they’ll all look at me and think I’m fat. I’m worried there going to talk behind my back. Bitch and gossip about me. I’m terrified of going. I feel sick already.
Oh to top that all off I saw my care coordinator today. Told her about my suicidal thoughts. And she barely flinched. Didn’t really care. Just told me to practice mindfulness. Yeah. It’s that simple. I wish!
So last night it took me 2 hours to get to sleep as all I kept thinking about was suicide. And overdosing. I was so close to taking an overdose. So close to popping all my medication and swallowing it. I don’t know how I didn’t. But I dig deep and stopped myself. I’m so desperate for this all to be over. So desperate for it all to end. I genuinely believe that the only solution is death. I genuinely believe that for all my problems to end I need to end my life. I don’t see any other way. I have so many problems. So many issues. And I can’t see a way out. Apart from death. Death doesn’t scare me. It should. But it doesn’t. Instead it’s a solution. A solution to end all my worries. I just can’t seem to do it. I don’t want to upset my family. I don’t want to do it to them. So instead I’ll stay with my issues. Stay with all my problems. And stay alive. For them. Not for me. When will life get better? When will I want to live? When? I don’t know. I genuinely believe I wasn’t born to live. I genuinely believe I was a mistake. I’m definitely not a success. I’m a failure. A failure of life. That’s me. A messed up human who can’t manage life. I have too many problems. Too many issues. I’m covered in scars. And that’s just the physical signs. Mentally I’m screwed. Mentally I’m messed up. No good to anyone. I’m damaged goods. Destined to be alone forever. I’m a mess.
So I’m lost. I’m confused. I’m all muddled up and it hurts. I can’t make sense of my thoughts. I’m alone. I’m depressed. I have no motivation for anything. I’m thinking bad thoughts. Ive fallen backwards. And all because of my ex. I can’t shift these thoughts I’m having. I miss him. But how’s that possible! I want to invite him for coffee and sit and chat and talk like the friends we were. But why? How? It doesn’t make sense. We’re over. And have been for 9 months now. Yet I’m longing to talk to him. Why? He hurt me. He became obsessive. Controlling. We were bad. We’re over. It doesn’t make sense. I’m so confused.
I did it. I actually did it. I reached my goal of the week and had a hot chocolate. Yes it was a skinny one but I did have marshmallows on it. And I did it. It was made so much easier by my wonderful friend who did it with me. We chatted throughout and I didn’t have time to think about it. I enjoyed it. It was nice. Until now. Until the thoughts have kicked in. The greedy fat thoughts. The ugly hideous thoughts. I’m already planning on skipping dinner tonight or if I can’t just having something tiny like soup. To counteract the hot chocolate. This isn’t normal. This annoys me. When will I be able to eat normally. And not have the thoughts afterwards? When will I be able to carry on me Day normally after having a drink or something? Why is it like this? Why do I feel like this? I hate this. I hate how it makes me feel. I hate how I have to counteract it. I hate what it does to me. I hate this voice in my head. It ruins my days. It controls my life. I hate it.
I’m craving food. I’m craving something sweet. Something naughty. Something yummy. But I can’t seem to do it I can’t seem to get past the thought. Every time I think of something sweet to eat my mind instantly calls me fat. Calls me greedy. Says I’m fraud and piling on the pounds. It stops me. But the craving is still there. On my mind all the time. And mean all the time. It’s constant. No let up. The only way to stop it is to satisfy the craving. But then if I do that I’ll be fat. My mind will hate me. Detest what I’ve just done. And then overthink everything. My over indulgence will be on my mind. Constantly. There is no let up. I ignore the craving but it’s still there. I satisfy the craving and then that’s on my mind. I can’t take much more. My mind feels heavy. Weighted down. Too many things going on in it. I had my assessment today for “eating school” which I failed twice at already so god knows how I’ll manage that. I’m craving drink too. I want to get so drunk I forget everything. So drunk I get the munchies and eat. And be normal. How wrong is that. I’m sick of this all
So today I was fat. I was greedy. I was a fraud. I felt guilty. Today I made a cake and ate some of the left over topping. I over indulged. I pigged out. I’m fat. I’m ugly. I’m a lier. I hate myself. I really do. This is how hard it is to eat. Anything. Anytime I eat these thoughts go through my head. I’m still only able to mange a small dinner. No breakfast or lunch. But today I ate that topping. Yes I may have enjoyed the first mouthful, the second was ok. The third I nearly spat out. Realisation hitting Home that I pigged out. Realisation that in fact I’m a fraud. And I’m fat.
So today has been good. I had a great positive meeting with my support worker. We agreed I’d become a day patient and we agreed I would reach 50kg then maintain. Considering the rubbish weekend I had and how I was feeling throughout it I was surprised I was in a positive mood today. We’ve come up with an action plan and I’m ready to tackle it. It’s going to be hard. Far from easy but I’m feeling better about it. I’m noticing little things. I’m noticing I’m getting out of breath quicker, being exhausted all the time and going dizzy every time I get up. All these things are bad, my periods still haven’t come back, I’m probably never going to be able to have children. The damage I’ve done on my body is irreversible. But I’ve had enough. It’s time I start living my life that I was meant to. Today I got a new job too. One I really wanted. I’m going to be a carer. I’m Going to give something back and help those that need it. I’m hoping this job will give me the motivation I need to eat. To live. To get up and go. I really am hoping that today is a turning point. That the flick has been switched that each day I’ll make an improvement. Each day I’ll take a step, maybe a small one, but Still a step in the right direction. Goodbye ana hello Aimee.
There’s no point in me even getting up today. I’m dreading today. And tomorrow. I have nothing to do. No money to do anything. And I’ll be watched by my dad asking if I’ve eaten every 5 minutes. Which is far from helpful. I’m struggling with my mood and the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Last night Someone cancelled on me and it crushed me. It completely ruined my mood I’m really not coping mood wise. One minute I can be laughing the next I can be suicidal. Days like today don’t help. Days like today I hate. There’s no point in being alive. There’s just no point to days like this. I’m going to have to fake eat every meal so my dad thinks I’m eating but Some of them I won’t be able to fake. Days like today and all I want to do is drink and forget I’m alive. Forget I’m here. I’m sick of people ignoring me too. I’m trying. But they just don’t. No wonder we barely speak. It’s not my fault. I always make the effort they just don’t. It’s not fair. What did I do so wrong in life to deserve all of this. It must have been fu****g awful to deserve this. To be given the life I’ve been given I must have massively done something wrong. I just wish I new what. I’m done. I’m fed up with life. I’m fed up of feeling fat. I’m fed up of eating I’m fed up of having no one I’m fed of feeling alone I’m fed up of feeling in the way I’m fed up of being depressed. If having bpd of struggling every day, of counting calories, of bosh checking, of suicidal thoughts. Of everything. I’m fed up of it all. I wish sometimes I was still with my ex. Not because I’m still in love with him. Im not. But He understood me. He made me not feel lonely. But it’s wrong to get back with him for those reasons. I’ve accepted it’s over , I’m moving on, but can’t help thinking what It would be like if it wasn’t.
I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of ana controlling my life. I’ve had enough of wasting my life. I’ve not working. Of not eating. Of not living. I’ve had enough. I’m done. Today I came up with a plan. I don’t know if it will work. Or if I’ll be allowed and my support will let me. But today I came up with the plan and I’m going to see what she says. Here it is:So I never will be happy with my weight. I’m never going to like my body. I’m always going to be on the underweight side of things. My bmi will always be lower than average. That’s just the fact. That’s just the way it is. I’m tall. Im small boned. I’m naturally slim. I’m going to suggest. And this is the hard bit. That I put 3.5kg on. Yep you heard me. I’m going to suggest I put weight on. This will bring me to 50kg. And when I hit this I’m going to suggest I maintain. I maintain that weight and live at that weight. Yes technically it’s still underweight. But I will be able to bare this weight more easily than if I go to be a day patient and pile the pounds on. I’m going to suggest this tomorrow and hopefully avoid being a day patient. It’s time I live. It’s time I get on with things. It’s time things changed. It’s time I start to live the life I’m meant to. I wasn’t born to waste a life I was born for a reason. Yes I’m yet to find that reason. Yes this is me on a positive day. But it’s time something changed.