Thursday, 14 July 2011

Stumbling Problem

I have a porn problem. A food porn problem. I'm back into the habit of googling & floolwing links to recipes, and saving some of them in my favourites, knowing full well i will probably never make any of them. Although i have gone as far as to buy some of the ingredients for one.

I've been here before. I know the signs, but i don't want to stop them right now. I'm losing weight & i'm happy with that, even if i do feel physically exhausted & crappy, dizzy etc.

The BMI is down to 21 but i still feel big.

M used the word depression on numerous occasions today while i sat the and talked through my tears. I didn't even feel pleased when i saw the number on the scales - not that i didn't know what it was anyway, the weighing at home is daily, if not more right now. I didn't want to go, driving there. I couldn't be bothered to talk to her today. I just wanted to curl up in a ball instead, and after i had taken my shoes off for the scales i sat with my legs tucked up underneath me, closer to that ball shape.

However from talking to M today, i think i will give the meds a try. Or at least i did, yet sitting here now i'd rather just carry on cutting instead. i feel like i would be masking a problem, that people would expect me to be fine once i was on meds. By as M pointed out, trying to think about anything right now is almost pointless as the depression and blackness is just masking every sensible thought.

How am i supposed to make a decision on my future in the next 2 weeks when i can't see past the next week? And i'm not seeing K again until the 8th August anyway. who knows what will happen in the next 3 weeks. Part of me still wishes something will go wrong, either i collapse or harm & make a mistake. i wish it would be all taken out of my control right now, only trouble is if it was, i'm not sure i'd like their plans, especially if involved hospital.

Tuesday, 12 July 2011

I don't know what i want at the moment. I don't see a future. It is purely day to day. I get up throw myself at the gym & exhaust myself. In the last 9 days i have done 22 classes plus a 15 minute run plus exercise walking at the stables of about 4 hours in that time.

I'm going to try & cut back in the next week. Either i've exhausted myself or i'm anaemic again, either way the blood test J took yesterday will tell. I booked the appointment friday evening, as i drove home from the supermarket i could feel panic overwhelming me, the dizzyness was stronger & i just felt desperate. I think it was more psychological than physiological friday evening, so i was glad that as i was asking the new-ish receptionist for an appointment with J, E came out and when i replied to her question that i wasn't ok & the tears starting rolling down my face, whilst holding onto my hand over the counter, telling me how well i'd been doing, she told the new girl to unblock a certain reserved appointment (probably an emergency slot that would open up on the morning of that day) so that i could see J straight after the weekend.

Part of me wished E hadn't taken my hand because i wanted more comfort, just like when i collapsed into the ex-bosses arms when i saw him & he had crept up behind me giving me a shoulder massage. My mind flew back 10 years when she had given me a hug, before i crossed the line & got too attached. Although of all the staff she is still the one who will reach out & give me some physical reassurance.

I feel frustrated. frustrated that i don't know what i want. Angry that government organisations won't give me the answers i need. Angry that part of me doesn't want to accept help & is almost happy for things to stay this way, with me harming myself & losing weight, angry because i know i should want to be normal without appointment & the need for help. Yet frustrated that i can't lose control & cause the damage i want to for fear of upsetting my family. Part of me wishes that the cut catch a blood vessel & don't stop bleeding like a few years back, so that i have to try & get myself to the surgery to pray that J & K can stop it, but knowing at the same time that then they know whats really going on in my head.

I think thats the problem, i still feel that if the damage doesn't show physically then no-one will really understand whats going on in my head.

No-one can see the images i see - reliving the past, the damage i caused, the incidents that happened, the stress of being chased my police after absconding, sleeping in a church yard over night when i was on a section 3 and should have been on the ward. No-one can see the thoughts i have, the things i really want to do. How i want to damage my arms, expect if i started wearing long sleeves again now, especially when i go to the gym constantly - it would be too obvious.

I need to go to bed. i can feel that crying myself to sleep is the only way to release this tonight & i know as soon as my head hits the pillow, if not before, the tears will be falling.

Sunday, 3 July 2011

Exercise overload

I've just booked a few (for few, read 5) classes at the gym for a week tomorrow. I had a count up my planner at the same time. I have 17 hours of classes booked in the next 7 days. Its got a bit out of control. The caffeine addiction will well and truely set in by the end of this week, if it isn't already.

That 17 hours doesn't include 4 hours of volunteering with horses, a rare night out on friday with gym buddies, walking into town (staying there to save petrol between gym & volunteering) to go to the bank & PO or helping a gym buddy out for about 3 hours with a project.

The thing is my body just keeps going, i never collapse with exhaustion, despite a restricted calorie diet. WTF is wrong with me?

I know 1 thing that is - my knuckles are still broken.... every so often i try & grip something and i can feel it. I can feel the lumps on the back of my hand & knuckles too. Mum grabbed my hand today while we were messing around & ouch, yes there is certainly a problem. However i can use it enough for the gym though so thats ok!

 
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