Hello whoever still follows me,
I have been absent-minded about posting on this blog for quite awhile. Honestly, my life has ben going well, and when I post on here, I tend to think only of the negative because that is what consumes this blog: negativity.
I am back to discuss my current problem: food. Although my depression and self-harm have not been an issue recently, my eating disorder symptoms have increased as I have begun a very strict diet with my mothe. My mother and I are on the HCG diet. This diet is known for the dieter administering a shot of the HCG hormone that feeds off stored fat instead of stored muscle when in starvation mode. (HCG is the hormone women produce when they’re pregnant.) SO. Basically, the diet consists of 3 phases.
- Phase 1: loading. This means you eat as much as you can stand for 2-3 days to prepare for the next phase.
- Phase 2: 600 calories. This phase consists of eating 600 calories of certain verified foods and restricting all starch, dairy, and sugar for 3 weeks. Of course, it is a bit more complex than that, but I’m too lazy to type it.
- Phase 3: 800 calories. This phase consists of eating 800 calories and still restricting starch and most sugars for three weeks, but dairy and more foods are allowed during this phase.
My mother and I started this diet at the beginning of the year, and I have lost 16 lbs so far which is great for a month and a half. We are currently on phase 2 of our second round of the diet.
Here is the catch.
Last round I cheated a lot and did not lose as much weight as I could’ve. I would binge dessert foods then throw them up. I would avoid eating all day so I could binge on cookies and frosting before I went to bed. I was doing all of the unhealthy things that got me out into an eating disorder facility last year.
So this round I am very determined to lose more weight than the last. But…at what cost? I am supposed to eat 600 calories every day, but I’ve mostly been eating 300-500. When I am on campus, I avoid eating. I am trying to only eat with my mom to lose more weight. I have lost 4 lbs since I started phase 2 which was 3 days ago. So I’m impressed with my results, and seeing the numbers go down on the scale only encourages me to continue restriciting my diet more than it already is.
My overeating and lack of eating has always been an issue, but I would like to lose 20-40 lbs by June. My brother is getting married, and I am in the wedding. I also need to keep the guy I’m dating interested in me, and losing weight will do that.
I just finished cutting.
My first time in 2016.
There goes my New Year’s resolution.
I haven’t been taking my medicine. Partly because it’s inconvenient, and partly because I’m tired of it. Sometimes I feel like I’ll be fine without it. Sometimes I feel like I’m rebelling against it because I want to feel this way. I want to cut. I want to feel hopeless.
But other times…I just want to be normal. I want to be happy and laugh at the little things. Lately, laughing takes a whole lot of effort. Everything takes a whole lot of effort.
I’m trying to fill the hole in my heart with a man, but I’m not having much luck. Every time it seems like someone wants to be with me, their actions show that they are only interested in fucking me.
I suppose I’ll just continue feeling this way until I decide I want to be better.
I’ve started cutting again.
I can’t stop.
It’s too helpful.
Although my hallucinations haven’t been a problem lately, my eating has been. Either I’m eating too much or too little. My psychiatrist diagnosed me with an eating disorder, and now I am in an outpatient program where I am trying to get some help with my difficulties with food.
If it’s not one thing it’s another. Am I right or am I right?
I just want to be happy for goodness sakes. I’ve decided to go back to university in the fall and be a theatre major again. But if my body refuses to cooperate, I’m going to be seriously pissed. I worked my butt off to get over self harming, now I come home from my outpatient program (where they make us eat a very large meal) wanting to cry and self harm because I’m never going to lose weight and feel comfortable in my body if they keep making me eat so much.
I have to write everything I eat in a “food journal” that requires I eat quite a good amount of food every day. My daily calorie intake is about to get larger.
As will my pants size. 😢
Last night was quite eventful.
I was cutting to stop the voices as per usual, but after 10 minutes they hadn’t gone away. Then 15 minutes, then 20 minutes. I ended up in the bathroom, still cutting, but washing off the blood running down my arm so I could see where I hadn’t cut yet. The voices were only getting louder. I was so scared that I wasn’t going to stop that I went and woke my mom up.
A 20 year old needing her mommy to help her, pathetic? Maybe.
In tears, I told her I couldn’t stop because the voices were still screaming in my ear. She calmly took me to the kitchen and helped bandage me up. Very badly, but, hey, she was tired.
After bandaging me up with a gauze pad and several insufficient band-aids, we watched Glee until 2:30 in the morning. That was nice.
Now I’m going to lunch with my mom and step-dad. Hey, it’s free food. WOOHOO.
When your boyfriend is thinking of breaking up with you because he can’t handle your depression, one sits in bed trying not to slit their wrist.
When your stomach has been in knots all day waiting for your boyfriend to say you can come over to talk, one sleeps as much as possible so they don’t have to sit in agonizing pain.
When your boyfriend cancels on you, one wishes to cut so badly they can hardly breath.
When you can’t cut because it will make your boyfriend even more upset with you, one tries all sorts of ridiculous coping mechanisms trying to resist the strong urge to cut.
When you can’t suppress the darkness…one cuts.
I have these nights where the voices won’t leave me alone. Nights where I cut until they let me stop. Tonight, they made me cut for 20 minutes. The only reason they let me stop is because I ran out of room on my wrist.
They get angry when I try to get help or others try to help me. So asking for help is too hard. They get louder and louder until I can’t separate my thoughts from them.
I don’t want to die. But I do. I really do.
But I want to get married and have kids. I want to have a career. I want to see my baby’s first steps, their first tooth, their first day of school, and their graduation.
I want so many things. But right now it doesn’t seem that I’ll be able to get them because I won’t make it through this alive.
I guess I will just go to sleep and then wake up and do it all over again. I hate this.