Sometimes I just really wish I could move, and start somewhere new. I want to get out of Georgia. I don’t like it here. I miss my friends. I feel very boxed in. I do have friends here, and I love them dearly. But…I’m outgrowing Georgia. It just seems so…tiny. I don’t know how to explain this feeling. I just need out. I need something new.
I know some ideas of where I’d go. I wish I could go back to Maryland, but under the circumstances right now, I don’t think that’d happen. Maybe later in the future, when some certain things are different. Maybe Ohio. For some reason Colorado pops into my head. Probably because my brother is trying to move there. Also because it’s beautiful.
As I keep saying in every damn post lately, I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. What I thought I wanted, I don’t know now. I don’t know what the fuck I want anymore. I feel like I could have the opportunity to “go find it”, but there’s always pit falls to that concept. Money, connections, jobs…all that jazz. It does take some time, planning, and effort to just up and move like that. It takes coordination.
I’m just crawling out of my skin. Semi-trigger warning…but I feel like I’ve been toying with overdosing. I’m not going to, but the thoughts are there, and they’re loud. Tonight I was just thinking….”well, just take a handful. That’s not going to do anything”. That’s something I used to do, and yes it is stupid, but for some reason it calms my anxiety. Not enough to hurt me, just…more than necessary. Awful, awful concept. An entirely too fine line. I won’t do it, but the thoughts are there.
My anxiety has been pretty bad lately as well. It’s keeping me up at night. I have been smoking weed every night for awhile now to help me sleep (since the anxiety and my sleep med doesn’t cut it)…but I’m trying not to do that so much anymore. I don’t like that I smoke every single night. I absolutely HATE smoking the bong now, because I get insane munchies. Like, eat everything in sight. And that’s obviously a terrible feeling for me. It makes my anxiety worse. What’s really hard for me is that my boyfriend smokes multiple times a day, probably every couple hours. So sometimes I just do it because he is, and honestly sometimes I don’t like being the one who isn’t high too. I can feel the difference, sometimes. So I smoke. And I eat. And I hate myself, and I want to restrict, and I go back to this feeling I had when I was thick in my ED…thinking, do I even have an eating disorder? I was dying from anorexia and all that comes with it, and I still questioned whether I was sick or not. Maybe I was faking. Maybe I’m not that bad. Maybe I’m just an idiot child who can’t get her shit together. Not true, in the end. Obviously, I guess. I relapsed so many times because I didn’t think I had what it took to restrict again. I thought I “wasn’t that strong” anymore. Let me clear: restricting doesn’t make you strong. Starving your body doesn’t make you strong. But that’s the mindset I had. I had to prove it to myself. Constantly. For years on end. It was never enough.
I wonder sometimes still if I “have enough power”. If I could do it again. Probably could, when it comes down to it…it’s an eating disorder, not the flu. I personally don’t believe for myself that I’ll ever be rid completely of my eating disorder. I think it lingers, and I need to be cautious (to a degree).
I don’t know. That’s all for now.
-July 13, 2017