Lately I’ve been trying to be more positive in life. It’s hard because being a grown up is quite stressful and it doesn’t help when you throw a couple of disorders on top of that, but I am tired of using those as excuses to be a lump on my grey couch staring at my ceiling. Yes, sometimes it does get overwhelming, but I know that I am not going to get better or enjoy my life if I keep giving in. If I actively seek the positive and do things to make me feel better, I’ll feel better and also hopefully create a halo effect and make others around me feel better.
We don’t realize how much we can impact others around us. Smiles can turn days around. Kind words can make all the difference.
I don’t want to get too sappy here, but it’s true. It is so important to spread positivity and kindness. Life is not always the best. In fact, it usually sucks. Your alarm didn’t go off so you had to rush to work. Traffic was awful. A customer or your boss yelled at you. Your computer crashed and you lost an entire day’s worth of work. Then you got home and your favorite TV show took a break this week so you don’t get a new episode. You burned dinner. You couldn’t fall asleep. All these little things can make your entire day awful, but only if you let it. Like I said, those are little things. I definitely can have little things build up and then have one more happen and it feels like the entire world is crashing around me because it was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Sometimes I just need to step back and remember the important things in life, or even just things that make me happy. Life is too short to spend it sad and angry or any other negative emotion. I know it’s not realistic to be happy all the time, but the more often we can be positive, the better we will be and the more we can enjoy our time in this life. I think positivity is like a muscle, you have to use it a lot to strengthen it so it can be used more often.
I just realized today that I haven’t been on wordpress in a while and I honestly don’t have a good excuse. I work part time at a coffee shop 15 minutes walking distance from my apartment and when I’m not there I’m binge watching Netflix or playing with my cat or doing both at the same time and telling myself that I’m talented.
So, sorry friends! I’ve been meaning to get onto a regular blogging schedule again, but I also have been finding myself in a giant depressive state. I sleep for 11-12 hours on my days off and still barely manage to have enough energy to function. I know what I want to do with the rest of my life, or at least the next 5 years or so of it, but I feel like I am terrible at it so I just don’t even try and stare at the TV, most of the time not even actually paying attention to it.
I honestly don’t know what has caused it. I’m depressive and suicidal most of the time and on a good day am just extremely tired despite copious amounts of sleep.
Sorry to get all sad.
I need to get on antidepressants but I honestly can’t afford them right now, so I have to wait until I have another job or somehow miraculously get extra hours at the coffee shop before I can even think about getting on any kind of medication.
Ok, on a happier note, here is that video of my cat I promised forever ago.
Over the past few months I have come to learn and understand more about myself. I look back on who I was before and realize that I was living in a fog that was created by my depression, anxiety, eating disorder, and incredibly low self worth. So it has lately come to my attention some things I would have done differently, specifically about my wedding, had I realized all I have learned back then.
First, I would have put more into my own appearance. I knew nothing about makeup and I did it myself but know much more know. I would have gone somewhere to get it done and be pampered because when else do we get to be so vain and put an extreme amount into our physical appearance? I would have also not looked for the cheapest wedding dress that I liked. I would have picked the fancier once that cost a little more. I do like mine but I know that I picked it more because it was cheap than actually loving it. My mom said she would pay for my wedding attire so I went as cheap as I could to save her the money. But it was my wedding. You (hopefully) only get one and there is so much that I had wanted to do that I didn’t because I didn’t feel important enough or like I had enough worth and value to deserve any of it.
Second, I would have asked my oldest friend to be a bridesmaid, if not co-maid of honor. It is true that we had grown apart in those years between when I had started dating the Actor and when we got engaged, but she was my best friend and my longest friend. I can’t even remember why I didn’t ask her in the first place. I do remember being extremely flustered all the time with college and wedding planning being thrown together but that is hardly an excuse. And this hardly makes up for the choices I made and the person I was, but I’m sorry I was stupid, A, and if I could do it again I would do it differently.
Thirdly and finally, I would plan more and better. On my actual wedding day I realized there was still a lot that I didn’t know like how to cut the wedding cake. But as a 19 year old college student bride I guess that is to be excused.
Last night I dreamt I went to a fancy salon to get my hair trimmed for cheap. They told me I had to get it cut in an ugly back room because I wasn’t paying enough to deserve the fancy room. A woman was getting her hair done for her wedding there and seemed so happy and got to go into the fancy room, and all I could think was how I will never deserve to go into the fancy room. But that is stupid. I need to stop treating myself so poorly and realize that I deserve to be happy, and that i have worth. I loved my wedding. It was so fun and I did have everyone that mattered to me there whether or not they were in the right position. I know that it’s just a wedding, and what matters now is the marriage, but those are my thoughts on the matter.
In case anyone was wondering, I am alive. Classes started last Wednesday and by the end of the day I was utterly exhausted. I have 5 straight hours of class, followed by a 1 hour sweat-inducing workout, 45 minute break, then work for 3 hours. Then I go home and it’s 7 and I just want to go to bed. But that’s only on Monday and Wednesday. The other days are less crazy. This quarter I am taking History of Television, Visual Storytelling, Aesthetic Experience: Beethoven, and Making Sense of the Universe where we study quite literally everything we possibly can in 10 weeks. 18 credits. I want to get out of here ASAP!
My 21st birthday was the other day. I am now 100% legal. So far I have bought myself 3 drinks and discovered that tequila is always a bad idea and that birthday cake shots are delicious if only for the lemon covered in sugar you suck on immediately after.
I got these cupcakes for my actual birthday, which was still exhausting even though I only had one class. Everyone kept asking me if I was going to go out to the bars but honestly I just went home, at my cupcake for dinner, and then went to sleep.
The Actor had auditions on my birthday and we had to wait to see if he got a callback that night, so we couldn’t have gone out anyway. But he did take me to lunch the next day where I had kind of gross pasta but this delicious white chocolate raspberry cheesecake, which is my favorite flavor of cheesecake and the only cheesecake I will ever eat.
On Saturday we drove over to Seattle and went out with my BFF and her friend. We were around Capitol Hill, and I had so much fun. My actual birthday was uneventful, but the celebrations on Saturday made up for it. That glass lights up, btw. I didn’t end up using it because I don’t really care all that much for alcohol, but I still like it.
Now I’m just trying to get into the swing of things with the new year. It’s (hopefully) the Actor’s last year, and my last full year so I’ve been getting really bad anxiety about it. I’ve been nauseous for days now just because of the anxiety. Nothing helps unless I really get distracted for a while. Hopefully as I adjust it will go away soon. I’m just getting closer to being out in the real world and realizing more and more that I have absolutely no real world skills whatsoever and I want to be a screenwriter which is insane. I hate money. I wish I could just live without needing to get a job I don’t care about in order to do so. So I’ve got more intense depression on top of the anxiety which just makes me feel fan-freaking-tastic.
Everything was so much easier when no one knew about Ana. Not even me. It was so much nicer and I was so much happier. Living in the illusion that I was almost perfect. Everything was so much easier when I didn’t know it was ok to be a person. When I didn’t know I had worth as a human being. When I didn’t know that I deserved to be heard. I didn’t despair before because I though I was living the life that I deserved.
Dont you ever just want to end the pain? Permanently? Wouldn’t that feel so great? Not feeling anymore.
Im a college student. I have debt waiting for me. But nothing else. No future. No career. I can ring up fast food. That’s all I’m good at. No matter where I apply I never even get an interview. And it was so much easier when I thought that was the way it was supposed to be.
Yes, I am asking for help. Because I am alone and I am scared and I don’t know what else to do. I turn 21 on Thursday. But I don’t know if I want to. Maybe this is a cry for attention but is that so wrong?
I have been in recovery for almost five years but there are still times when I look back on my disordered time and wonder why I chose recovery. I’m not gonna lie and say that every day I am thankful that I recovered. I’m not gonna lie and say that it’s been fun. I’m not gonna lie and say that it’s been easy. It hasn’t been. Not one bit.
I used my disorder to hide my anxiety and my depression. With it I was able to go out into the world and act like everything was ok. I was able to put on a smile and talk with my friends. The only negative emotions they thought I had were the ones toward the divorce my parents were going through. I was able to hang out with friends without being petrified to do so. I was able to go on dates with the Actor and have fun. Believe it or not but I was able to actually eat when we went out and be all right because when I went home I knew I could skip more meals and exercise more. I used my disorder to help me cope with life and my low self esteem. It was a coping mechanism and a punishment. A punishment for not being enough, for never being enough. A punishment for having wants and desires which make me selfish. A punishment for wanting love that I don’t deserve. My disorder was my best friend and my worst enemy.
I know that it wasn’t great. I remember the daily scale dance. I remember. But to be completely honest I was not obsessed completely with it until after I was diagnosed. I know that it wasn’t fun but I didn’t let Ana hover over me 24/7 until after I was diagnosed. Before that we were close friends who put me in my place when I needed it.
Recovery challenged not only her but me as well. Because facing recovery meant looking at everything that I hate about myself and trying to work through it. I have had to face everything and try to accept it or realize that that was a lie I have been telling myself for years. Maybe I do deserve love. Maybe having wants and desires and needs doesn’t make me selfish and terrible. Maybe I have some worth as a person. And that’s why I look back and think that I was better then than I am now. But I know that’s a lie too. Obviously I still have a disordered mindset. When I was in therapy this year before my therapist left I left every session realizing another thing I had been thinking about myself all my life that was possibly not true. I didn’t have anxiety like I do now when I had my disorder. I really did trade one for the other. Because my disorder was hiding the anxiety; it was keeping it in check, whether or not that was healthy.
I am still eating. I think that at this point in my recovery I’m not in a place where I’ll start to starve myself again. It is true that there are times when I forget to eat, or get so wrapped up a project or TV show that I feel hungry but don’t want to move because I don’t want to break my attention, not because I genuinely don’t want to eat. I know I can probably never go back to my old ways, whether I want to or not, because I know too much now and I respect my body more now than I did then. So this struggle is purely internal.
I grew up being told that my family had perfect health. We had 20/20 vision, a 60 BPM heart rate, 120/80 blood pressure, no history of cancer, heart disease, or diabetes, etc. None of that is true of course, but my mom spoon fed me that idea every single day. She told me my dad’s side wasn’t so lucky but I didn’t need to worry even though I was related so closely. This caused me a lot of pain growing up. I had to “recover” from my ED as fast as possible because having it meant I was broken and imperfect. I didn’t actually start to recover until last fall. Yes I had regained the weight I had lost but the mental aspect still hadn’t been addressed. I think that idea caused me a lot of stress and agony after my mom’s cardiac arrest last year.
And this morning I drove home with tears in my dilated eyes after my eye exam ecause I found out I am farsighted and have an astigmatism. I need glasses basically. Am I surprised? Not really, but having not completely round eyeballs and needing glasses means I’m just even more imperfect. Add this to anxiety, depression, and an eating disorder and you get one imperfect person.
Logically I know that no one is perfect. Logically I know that I am not broken because I need glasses.I am not less of a person for having any of the things that I have. But despite the logical side of me, I am really upset about this. And I hate it. Because I do feel like les of a person with every diagnosis that gets added to my chart. Because it makes me feel like I have less worth as a person. I don’t project any of this onto anyone with similar diagnoses, only me.
People aren’t perfect. I am not perfect. And that is okay. I just need to get to a point where I can believe that.