when i was in 6th grade, one of the girls in my class had a major battle with anorexia. she was hospitalized for most of that school year, and was in and out of the hospital for years afterwards. because we were at 'that impressionable age' all of the grade 6 and 7 girls were called into an assembly to learn what it meant to be anorexic and how it wasn't just about food or body image. it was about how she felt she had lost control of everything around her, and the only thing she felt that she could be in charge of was the amount of food she put into her body. by mastering the art of starving herself, she thought she could be successful and happy, even though her goals were extremely unrealistic. don't get me wrong, the body image issue was still a part of her disease.but all she wanted was to feel like she could do something right for once. and not be a fuck up.
right now i feel like i have little to no control in my life. i am struggling so hard to get that back and i feel that when i get a step further ahead, i end up hurting someone, so i need to step back, reevaluate and go a new direction. i can accept that life is beyond my control. i am not so OCD that i need everything to be MY way ALL of the time. but for the things that i SHOULD have control over, like my body, and my eating, and my mind, i have been trying not to fuck up, yet i have been; somewhat consciously, somewhat unconsciously. In order to gain that control back, i have been very strict with myself. one meal a day. only drink water. 20 push-ups every other day. meditate the bad thoughts away. process the good thoughts into action. create positive energy. its sad and pathetic, and i know it, and i cant stop. i am too numb.
i found out that a close family member recently tried to kill himself. he was found in his bathroom hung by a towel round his neck by his soon to be brother-in-law. CPR was administered immediately and he is so very lucky to be alive. i can't stop thinking about how that should have been me. that sounds so selfish. so disgusting. we have the same story. we both are diagnosed with depression. (i'm bi-polar II, he just has depression) we both want to die. at least now he can talk to his family about it. people who understand and can be there for him when he has his lows.
my family doesnt know about my lows.
they dont know how sometimes i can't walk over bridges because all i want to do is jump to my death.
they dont know how i save my extra meds for that 'one day that i might just need all of them'.
they don't know that i dont care about having someone hold a gun to my head in a hostage situation (i watch a lot of tv, i doubt this would actually happen in my little life) because i am suicidal, and just dont give a fuck.
they wouldnt understand. i have tried explaining it to ry but because he has never had those feelings before he cant empathize. it's like explaining to a snake what it feels like to have legs.
i am out for the weekend. take care. i will do my best.
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