Vent

I’m losing focus of what the point is.

My depression is getting bad again.

I’m having suicidal thoughts.

I’m going to be fine. I’m not going to do anything. But the thoughts are brutal. My boss put all of my vacation hours onto my last check. The taxes they ended up taking out cost me the entire amount I got paid for the vacation hours. My next paycheck will have maybe 45 hours, if I’m lucky. That’s absolute SHIT. I can’t believe this is happening. I can hardly afford fucking rent. I can’t do anything anymore. Money is so tight I don’t even know how I’m getting by. I’m using financial aid like it’s no one’s business, and that is completely FUCKED UP because I can’t be doing that. That money is for SCHOOL. But I don’t have a choice. I don’t have enough money. I pay rent in a few days, and I’ll be left with nothing. My car is fucked up in several ways, and I need to get it checked tomorrow, but oh wait, I HAVE NO MONEY.

I don’t want to live like this. I literally don’t do anything anymore because I work so hard, I get paid nothing, my anxiety skyrockets, and I don’t have money to leave my apartment. I stay at home, I get depressed, and the depression makes complete sense.

Maybe it has been right all along. Clearly I’m an idiot, I can’t do this. WHAT IS THE POINT.

The Drive of the Past

I hope this isn’t triggering…but I’ve got to get it off my chest.

Sometimes I really miss my eating disorder.

I live almost completely without it these days. I’m not counting calories, or restricting, or weighing myself a million times. I don’t look at foods and think about what they’ll do to me. I don’t live in the hell of anorexia.

But sometimes I miss it.

Why would I miss hell? That makes no sense. But it was so predictable. It was so…I don’t know. I knew what I was doing. I was “good” at it, as terrible and fucked up as that sounds. It was my entire life.

I spent years with anorexia running my life. I knew I’d die one day, and I was okay with that. My family came to terms with it. We all knew what was coming…it was just a matter of time.

Until it wasn’t. Until I got the help I needed. Until I took the steps forward without jumping ten feet back.

I don’t know what changed. I went to a different treatment center, but I had done that before. What changed?

While I was at the last treatment center, I faced a lot of shit. I listened to my mom tell me I was dead to her. I listened to my best friend cry on the phone about my recent suicide attempt that she barely saved me from. I came face to face with the fact that I was not only ruining my life, but burdening many around me.

And I got better. I’m not saying I’m cured, because I don’t believe in that. I don’t believe my eating disorder will ever disappear into the dark, never to be heard from again.

I also believe I can manage recovery. I can keep moving forward without getting too sidetracked.

I watched a movie trailer tonight…I think it’s a Netflix original? I’m not sure. It’s about a girl’s journey with anorexia/in treatment. I know it’s completely fucked up, but it made me miss my disorder. I miss knowing what I was doing, every second of every day. I miss that intense drive to do something. I miss it, sometimes.

I like my life. I like that I’ve come further in the past two years than I have in the six-seven prior. But there are still those days.

I hope that someday I know my purpose, other than anorexia.

-June 20, 2017

I’ve been a little absent again. I’m sorry. Things have been crazy lately.

I’ve gone to Baltimore twice in the past month or so, and I’m going back Wednesday-Saturday. Well, Wednesday and Saturday will most likely be spent driving. 12 hours of fun! My dress for the wedding is ready and fits, and I’m super excited for it to happen.

I don’t know if I said this in the last post…I could go check but I’m being lazy. I got a dog, Oliver. So he’s been filling most of my time. He’s eight months old and doing well, but not fully potty trained yet. It’s kind of a nightmare with that. I had him in this mesh enclosure thing I used to transport White Kitty down here to Georgia, but he ended up chewing through it and escaping. I do need to get him a crate, but I’m royally broke right now. This sounds insane but I am trying out a doggy diaper to see if that works at all. It’s mostly just when I’m gone for work that he has accidents. But we’re working on it.

White Kitty has been hiding a lot, which is kind of sad for me. I miss her. She’s taken to hiding in my bathroom cabinet (below the sink), so I made it comfy for her. Pillow, blankets, etc. Hopefully she comes out more soon.

Work has been…work. Busy. Hectic. Stressful. I had a job interview yesterday. It was a culture interview, actually. Second of third; if they like me, I’ll go on to the third (a resume interview). I haven’t heard anything, though. My anxiety has sky rocketed. I wish they would have told me something today. My boyfriend applied to the same job, but he had his interview on a Wednesday (and he heard back Friday). So I suppose I’ll hear back Monday? I guess. He didn’t get chosen, which really sucks. It kind of makes me feel bad. I don’t think I’ll get it, but if I did…I don’t know. I’d always feel self-conscious.

There’s a lot going on with that. Feeling self-conscious. Contemplating if I matter. If my opinion, ideas, or anything I have to say, matters. Does anyone really want to hear me, anyway? People constantly talk over me. Cut into what I’m saying. Why do I even bother speaking? This is why I stopped when I was little. I went silent because nobody heard me anyway. Why keep trying when it’s useless. Nothing I said mattered, nothing I did made anything better. I could wish and pray and hope with all my might, but it would never stop. Until it did, and I blamed myself anyway.

I miss my dad. It’s Father’s Day soon. Everybody coming into Starbucks is buying the Father’s Day gift cards. Tomorrow there’s supposed to be a group of thirty people celebrating fathers coming into the store for their celebration. I don’t want to be there for that, but I don’t have a choice. I ache to feel my dad’s presence again. I ache to feel his touch. I ache to hear his voice. I wish I had him back. And I hate myself for being jealous of other people who do have their dads. I hate that I’m so bitter towards them. There’s no reason for me to be. I’m glad for you if you have your dad. I just miss mine. I don’t wish this upon anyone, though I know it will happen eventually to most.

I hate the hole it’s left inside me. It’s a giant void I feel myself slipping into from time to time. Like right now. It’s a black hole filled with shreds of my broken heart. Desperation, longing, and bitterness reside there. It’s funny how you wish you had someone back, but can’t stand to be around anyone else who is actually here.

They can get it, they can not get it. The point is, nothing anyone ever says will make it better. And I don’t say that in a mean way…it’s just kind of the truth. It feels nice to have people care, and try, but no one can be my father, or bring my father back. No one can tell me why. No one can explain why that was necessary…a reason that would actually make sense to me. Why is it supposedly God’s will for my dad to succumb to cancer? He went out in pain. He left me in pain. Why is God’s will pain?

I wish I had answers. I wanted to be able to go to church…and I actually asked my boss if I could have Sunday’s off for school this coming semester (so that I could go to church in the morning). But she said Sunday’s are tricky, and she needs me to work. I close Saturday nights, so that doesn’t work for church either. Maybe one day I’ll figure something out.

I don’t know why I’m becoming to anti-people lately. It’s like I crave love, I crave having people who care…but I also crave sleep. And being alone. And not bother humanity with my insanity.

I don’t know what I want. But something has to change. This isn’t tolerable.

-June 16, 2017

Bad Day

I’m pretty sure nothing I do is right. And I’m pretty sure in the end, everyone will grow to hate me.

It makes sense. I knew there was something wrong with me. And I can pretend like there’s not, like I’m just weird like everybody else is…but I don’t know. There’s something blocking me from the rest of the world. I can’t pinpoint it, but I can feel it.

I don’t want to be the last person someone thinks of. I don’t want to be just another person. I want to mean something. And I don’t really think I do. I don’t think I mean very much to some people.

They always tell you that if you love yourself, and believe in yourself, then that’s enough. Is it really? Because it doesn’t feel like it. Believe it or not, we do need each other. We need other people. We need humanity to acknowledge our existence. Because without acknowledgement, are we really even there?

I used my behaviors as punishment. I treat myself like shit because that’s what I am. I would tell myself over and over not to believe the lies that “I’m good enough”, or “I matter”. It doesn’t make up for anything. My past will always live inside me. I can forget all the good memories, but the old demons are there to stay.

And that’s actually how it is. My brain doesn’t remember good times. It doesn’t remember sitting at the ice cream shop down the street with my dad and brother. It doesn’t remember going to Ireland with my dad and all my siblings. It doesn’t remember the love.

It remembers the shit. It remembers the screams. It remembers the terror.

Why is that?

My body remembers how it felt. Not just emotionally, but physically. The pain that rocks me to my core. And it comes back up. And it comes back up. And it comes back up.

Good days, bad days, and whatever in between. Sometimes I don’t hate myself this much. Tonight I do.

-June 1, 2017

Shelter Love

I had a pretty good day today. My boyfriend slept over last night, and we spent pretty much the whole day together today…which was really nice. We went out for a bit last night, then had some errands and such to run today. While his car was getting worked on, I bribed him into going to the animal shelter with me. I really want to get a dog, and I saw a few on their website that I loved. One of them I actually saw at the shelter today saying he got adopted, so I’m very happy for him. He and my mom both kind of have the same thinking process when it comes to me wanting a dog…the whole, “how will you have time for it, how will you pay for it, etc.”. My therapist is supportive of me getting one. I just think it would be encouraging for me to get up, get outside, do more in general. I’m not the type of person to get an animal and just ignore it, so it’s not like I wouldn’t care for it. Well, maybe except the hamsters I had growing up. I hated them because they bit the shit out of me and hated me. I was younger so my mom just kind of took care of them with me. But that’s different. I have my own place now, and I will make time for a dog.

It took a lot out of me not to bring the one dog I met home today. He was super cute and sweet. But I’m not prepared right now, and I’m leaving for Baltimore next week (flying, so I couldn’t just bring him). I don’t want to adopt a dog and then leave him the next week. I’m sure he would need time adjusting and establishing a routine, and that wouldn’t help at all.

I think going to the shelter kind of made him sad, though. There was this older dog he fell in love with, and he said he felt bad because he’s probably had a long, hard life. There’s also the fact that most people adopting a dog want a puppy or younger one. It’s hard to find someone to adopt a senior. I would say more people should, but I know it’s extremely taxing and emotional…so more like, do if you feel you’re up to the challenges it brings. I told him one day, when we have a house, we can adopt a senior and let him have his last years be amazing with us. I know it’d be really hard emotionally for me, but they deserve love just as much as any other dog.

My past two days were my days off, so tomorrow I’m back to the grind. I know I at least work through Sunday, but the new schedule isn’t up yet. I don’t really have any shifts this week where I would be in charge…which kind of sucks. I miss doing what I was hired to do.

I do have a phone interview with a company tomorrow. My boyfriend referred me to them (he’s applying too). If I were to get this job for whatever reason, I probably would quit Starbucks. There’s no reason not to (minus the college achievement program, but…I don’t know. I think I can figure that out myself).

❤ Much love.

-May 31, 2017

Necessary Mood Lift

I’m feeling really good at this particular moment, which is nice. I’ll savor it while I can.

Another semi-stressful night at work…although my boss was very encouraging, which helped calm me down a lot.

Anyway, I closed, and drove home/checked the mail. I got a letter from the college I’ve been attending, saying I’ve made the Dean’s List. Hence my feeling good.

I just had this immediate thought of, “I’m finally doing something right!”. I know I do a lot wrong, but I also know I do some things right…so that isn’t the only “right” thing I’ve done lately. But it’s had the most impact on me. I think because everything else I do “right”, it’s kind of expected. It’s the norm/really isn’t anything special. But upon reading this letter, it’s just something extra that I didn’t really expect. Honestly I didn’t even think about the Dean’s List, or any other awards I might have gotten lately. The surprise helped a lot, I think. It just feels really nice to have this accomplishment. I worked really hard these past few semesters, with not a ton to show from it. Now it’s changed.

So besides feeling that, I am also feeling a little bit of anger. I feel like I’m kind of being used, in some regards. I don’t really want to go into huge detail…just the feeling kind of sucks. I feel like a good part of my meaning to this person is certain things I have. I want to be enough on my own. I also want to be able to say no and not regret my decision.

All in all, it hasn’t been a terrible day. It is 12:42am, though, so bed is getting a little necessary. Until tomorrow. ❤

-May 27, 2017

This World

This world frustrates me. On a constant basis. Whether it’s my friends being shot down by idiot boys who need to realize when they have something awesome, or my workplace constantly pointing out everything I do wrong.

I don’t enjoy living this way.

I feel like I try so, so hard at work. I try to do everything right, but obviously that’s not always going to happen. And then every time I do something wrong, it’s pointed out. I can’t take it anymore. It’s never, ‘oh good job on that whatever’…it’s always, ‘in the future, you really should do ___’. I am one who likes to learn from my mistakes. But I am also a firm believer in praise as well as criticism. I will resent you, like I do now, if all you tell me is criticism.

I hate that I’m even scared to type these words, in fear that someone will read it and alert my work. I shouldn’t be scared to vent my frustrations. But I am. In this world, you’re always wrong, and they’re always right (when it comes to work).

I don’t know how long I can take this for. I need to transfer, or something. I feel obligated to work at Starbucks until I finish my degree, now that I’m doing their tuition reimbursement plan. It’s a really good opportunity, and if I don’t do it, I will be in a lot more debt that I already am. But can I really take this pressure for much longer? Three years longer, to be exact?

I hate that I dread work. I hate that I’ve grown to be cynical of the place I once used as an escape. Starbucks used to be my safe place. Now I don’t even like being in one. I just feel the pain radiating.

Is it possible to look forward to your job? Without getting a degree in something you’re passionate about? I wish I could afford to work less…take more time to do things I love. I feel like my life revolves around that place. Revolves around each paycheck. No matter how hard I work, the paycheck still sucks.

I’m diving lower and lower in my bank account. I don’t have much room to mess around. Whatever comfort space I had in the account, it’s gone. Which makes me more miserable. I work hard and then have to sit at home watching Netflix every single night, because I’m scared of spending money out that I might need for something more important.

I feel lonely. I do spend most of my time not at work alone. If I’m not with my boyfriend, I’m with my cat. I like my alone time, but it’s getting depressing. I want to be around people, but I don’t. I want to be happy, but it’s hard to maintain.

I just wish I knew what to do.

-May 23, 2017