15 days to survive. I barely made it out of yesterday.
This morning was the first morning I made it back to punishment since my hospitalizations 4 months ago. I could only go an hour instead of my 3-6 usual.
I looked in the mirror while running and was sick to see how fat I have become. Damn that seroquel. I have so much work to do. I want a boost but I feel like I haven’t earned one.
I pretty much decided to go back to VRFF. Day one. They say 14 days, I have 15 atleast until hospital. With the added weight I can only pray my heart stops on day 14. Then the war is over and I won’t have to fight such a brutal war anymore.
Talked to my dad for a few minutes last night. It’s been months since I heard his voice. I miss them all so much but I will not win this so I can never go home. It’s torture to hear what I desperately want but is no longer in my reach.
This eminem song has been stuck in my head since I saw the preview for “The Equalizer” Denzil says you gotta be who you are in this life no matter what.
I wish I could fight for myself that hard.
“I was afraid to make a single sound afraid I would never find a way out, afraid I would never be found, I don’t want to go another round, an angry man’s power will shut you up”
“Guts over fear, the time is near, guts over fear.”
I just simply feel lost. I don’t understand why meds worked 16 days when I was inpatient and now even 10 days here I continue to plummet. It makes me feel so helpless. Hopeless. Frozen in a downward plummet I cannot seem to stop. I continue to take meds off when they seem to not help or cause more problems. I know where this is going…..inpatient or a casket and I am empty. I am all out of guts to do anything but pray for death. Cause I am so exhausted. It’s been a year now fighting this relapse and I have pretty much used the last year losing. And I am so tired of losing. I am tired of this monster. I am weak and lost. It makes a bottle of tylenol sound like relief.
And I am desperate for relief.
I would let my counselor lock me up right this moment but with school out I have 15-11 hour days beside christmas and Christmas Eve till my angel goes back to school on the 5th.
I am so dang exhausted trying to balance my scales.
Feels like a close is coming to
Fuck am I gonna do
It’s too late to start over
This is all I know how to do
Well my appointment went as I expected. She is saying I need
To be hospitalized again. She is extremely concerned because I went off over half my meds. She asked what my psych doc said and I told her I had cancelled my appointment and this was the last time I would be seeing her. She said you can’t do that. I said dying people don’t need appointments. She argued about the whole dying thing. She asked if I had a plan in place I said no. Even if I did I wouldn’t admit that to her it would be grounds she could use to get a petition for hospitalization for me. Even if it’s what I need to make it I don’t want it.
I am ready for death. I told her I am just too tired to fight anymore. She kept saying that a lot of people care about me. I have already started to lose weight being off the seroquel. I told her what the ER doc said about my weight and she said is this what set you off. And looking back I realized
It help start my demise. You’re too fat for those meds to work is basically what he said.
I am too fat. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being in my own body knowing that I don’t fit into most of my jeans when less then a month ago 9 out of 10 pairs were falling off me. Now I have one pair fitting me. Truth is I will do whatever I have to in order to lose the weight I gained even if it kills me. I joined The gym out here so that madness will start tomorrow. Back to the ugly brutal 3-6 hours a day.
Then when I am in town my messenger from face book beeps. It my biological mother asking how I am doing. I told her not well. She asks if there is anything she can do. And all I can think of where the fuck have you been for the last 9 months? Now all of the sudden you want to “be here” and help. Not going to happen. I am not opening the door now when I am pretty much have given up so you can “come save the day”
This day sucks to high heaven. I wish people would accept my will to go and leave it at that. No guilty comments on who I am going to hurt and what will happen to all those in my life. Truth is yes it will hurt them but they will move on. No one is irreplaceable. So leave me to my death so they can find my replacement.
I am just too tired about all this.
I want the peace of my absence to come quickly. Food is now out of the picture and I will go back to my Boost shakes at a minimum. Let’s see how long it takes me to turn me off. It will probably take more then I want since I gained the weight on that med.
I wanted them to matter. I wanted them to count. I felt hopeful 10 days ago when I restarted all my meds but one that I was in inpatient. Where at the end of my stay I was terrified to leave and knew it was too soon but at least I feel some semblance of normalcy.
But they have not help. While the valium has kept my cutting to a minimum I still struggle with the urges multiple times a day. I agreed to stay on the Seroquel regardless of how it was knowing how much weight I gained because it seemed to help in treatment but it hasn’t made any difference but more weight gain and I can’t stand it any longer.
Truth is I can stand much of this any longer. This darkness has settled
Over me and I cannot knock it out. I want my heart to stop breathing so bad. I successfully fell down the stairs again. That makes it 4 times this month. This time my right knee gave out and down I went. I injured my shoulder that I had surgery on so yay to that. The ER doc said your medication probably isn’t helping because of you weight at XXXLBS you should be in a higher dose. That made me feel great.
It’s Christmas and holidays are never easy for me even with my surrogate family let alone with out them. I am slowly but surely shutting the world out. As I sat in the ER room the other night I started crying. This is what living people do they get help for problems.
But I am not living, I am dying so what a waste of time for them and for me. Albeit at my own hands I am dying but it is the truth. I cancelled all my appointments with my treatment team except my PCP I see her tomorrow she just doesn’t know it’s for the last time. Dying people don’t need doctors.
Back at urgent care. Another fall. My right knee just keeps giving out on me. I have no doubt it is a leftover from when I was in treatment and my leg collapsed. This is the 4th time in a month. My legs are all bruised up from the previous falls. Someone would swear that I have an abusive boyfriend. Nope I seem to be content to do all the damage myself.
I think there is like 2 hour wait. I am so not excited. I am still exhausted from not sleeping well last night.
I have taken this test before. And although I haven’t gotten even a close enough score to be proud I can say I beat ANA once. 14 years of recovery is “pretty amazing as my entire treatment team try to remind me.
But now that I have fallen down the rabbit again I just can’t seem to find the white rabbit. I haven’t gotten near as much strength as he is and chasing him even a little while wears me out to the bone.
The truth is I am just too tired.
And I am ok with that. Went to therapy and only stayed 15-20 minutes. She kept asking me what I was thinking and I kept telling her I don’t have anything to talk about cause I have made my choice. She said it pisses her off that a man from so long ago still has control of my life and I said yes he does.
I refused to set up an appointment for the following week but she made one anyway. She asked what my plans are for the holidays and I told her flat out I don’t plan to be alive to make anything of it. It is far cheaper at this point to bury me then for the state to have to continuing my car.
I leave and call my psychiatric doc and cancel my appointment. The nurse said when do you want to set up another time. I told her it won’t
Be necessary the meds aren’t working. She said this would be a perfect time to talk with about it and I blurt out “I ain’t plan to be around then” she gets concerned and says she will let my doctor know.
Best of luck love. Letting her knk won’t save my from myself.
I became the abuser. I continue his sickness and brokenness and treat my body and soul with the same amount of Respect he does. I am taking out the trash
I woke up at 5:20am. No chance in going back to sleep. I have already smoked 3 maybe 5 cigarettes …..I just can’t get this anxiety out of my head. Today is therapy. On Monday I was such a mess I said when Friday comes if this isn’t better then I am done fighting. Unfortunately I have lost sight of what is worth fighting for. Your life is almost everyone’s response. But I am afraid that fear has come and gone. I am so very tired of this fight. And just two weeks ago things were going so smoothly.
I complain a lot on here. I don’t mean to. It’s just me bring as open and transparent as I can be. To chronicle my battle and the brutal ugliness of this fight with ANA and with depression and with what the brokenness of childhood abide can do.
It has been close to a year since I started this blog. It’s amazing I am still here to write. That certainly wasn’t the plan.
At 10 o’clock today my therapist will want to know I want to keep on fighting or if she needs to place me in patient again. It’s been one month and 8 days since my release. I think it would be better to be inpatient ….safer anyway. I always fight the process because I don’t like people having control over my life. I have felt powerless enough in my life for a million lifetimes.
But I am kidding myself by saying I can do this alone. With therapy just once a week. Part of me wants to live and to hope I can go back to the days where life was manageable and actually enjoyable, but part of me has succumb to this reality. I will never be whole again. I will never be part of my family again. I will never be able to walk up those steps to that little white church GOD used to save my life the first time around.
So many never be’s in my life.
And I wonder do I just tell the truth today or put in a good smile.
She’s good. My therapist is really good. But maybe the” I will nevers ” have finally reach the stronger point then the ” I hopes”.