I've seen flowers and razors in her hair.

2:18pm – Inpatient treatment.

So.. I am on a waiting list for a room in the hospital. Once that room is available, most likely within the week, I’m next.

At this point, it’s pretty much vital I do this. Even I can agree I need this, I need this to start getting better. Everything else, has failed. Part of me wants to get it over with already, the rest of me wants to run and never look back.

I’m scared. No. Terrified. Absolutely terrified. It’s a great place, and my sister’s psychiatrist recommended me and gave my mom and I all the details and information we needed to get started. She used to work there, said she loved it and all the staff are amazing people and treat everyone wonderfully. But I’m still shaking in my boots. I want to curl up and sob. Feeling every emotion at once it seems like.

Support and feedback is much needed right about now.

Have any of you ever stayed in a hospital and how was the experience, did it help you?

5:40pm

Things are starting to feel very bad again.

The possibility of starting over.

B and I are talking about moving out of state. As in seriously moving. Within a year or so.

Living where we do now, nothing ever changes, so nothing ever gets better. It’s nearly impossible to find work, and we’ve actually been nominated like top 3 of the worst states when it comes to unemployment. There are no opportunities for growth here. Everything is always the same or growing worse. I have no friends here, they’ve all moved away. The hardest part will be leaving my family for sure.

I need change. I need something new. I need to begin my life, our life. I need to start over. I need to find who I am and where I belong. I need adventure, excitement, personal growth and peace.

This is not a 100% definite plan, but we are doing research on it to make a plan we can work towards. 

Right now we are looking at Maine, Michigan, or Colorado. B also wants to look into Oregon and Washington, but it’s a bit far for me. We’ll see what happens.

Suicide doesn’t get rid of the pain, it gives it to someone else.

Alone.

There’s this twisted ball of anxiety sitting in the pit of my stomach growing bigger by the second.

I just wish I had one day where I felt normal. One day where I’m not sick with anxiety and panic and sadness. One day where I’m able to actually enjoy my day and not worry about anything else. One day where I’m not on the verge of tears and not even knowing why exactly.

I’m always better when I’m not here. I guess I’ve always been good at running and hiding from my problems, from my life, from myself. When I’m not here, I’m more like me. Or maybe more like who I should/want to be. I honestly can’t even tell you who I am anymore, which part of me is real and which part is just my sickness. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror I honestly don’t recognize myself. It’s like looking at a stranger whom I happen to know everything about.

I always feel so distant from everyone. So alienated. I don’t mean to do it, it just happens. I guess I just feel like no one understands, or I just don’t want to burden anyone with my bullshit.

I’m tired of feeling alone. It’s so painful. But I’ve gotten so used to it that it’s almost comforting to me. 

Addiction is scary.

I have this upstairs neighbor we’ll call N.

N is the mother of one of my kind-of friends that I went to high school with. We’re all really friendly with each other. N has had problems with addiction for years, and went to rehab for 39 days and completed her program. She came back about a week ago.

Last night my boyfriend and I were hanging out outside, smoking some weed (yeah yeah, I know) and just talking and relaxing. I hear her stumble down the stairs and as she starts talking to me I realize she’s intoxicated.

“Yep, off the wagon” she sighed at me. “You got some weed? Can I have some? I’ll pay ya! I wanna get high” I tell her no, it’s really not a good idea. She laughs and says she’ll just use some of her daughter’s stash later when she falls asleep.

She sat down looking defeated and started talking about what an awful day she had, how her bad day set her completely off track, how at her doctor’s appointment they gave her some pills to take over the course of a week and she couldn’t help herself and took them all at once, how her divorce and death of her parents really kicked her addiction into high gear these past two years.

I didn’t know what to say but I listened and offered a sympathetic ear. I gave her a hug afterwards before she left. She asked me not to say anything to her daughter, since she doesn’t know and always flips out about her mom’s drinking and drug use.

I just feel so sad for her. I know she was feeling so down on herself and like a failure that she threw away her recovery within days. I believe in her and that she can get help again and stay sober. People screw up at first. N is a really wonderful human being and I love her a lot. I feel bad there’s nothing I can do, feel bad that her life has turned to shit so she turns to the bottle.

She kept repeating about how life goes to shit when you’re older, everything falls apart and eventually you’re left alone.

I can’t even begin to describe how scary it was to hear that..

I don’t want to end up like that.

Upset. Triggered. Offended.

My boyfriend is a funny guy, always playing pranks and cracking jokes. He’s played a few jokes on his co-worker who we’ll call C. Harmless stuff, like putting hilarious photos in places so people will find it on their bathroom break, that type of stuff.

I guess he forgot to log off Facebook last night at work, so C decided to have some payback and post something ridiculous. So she posts one of those “rape sloth” meme’s and put his mood as horny. 

As soon as I saw it I knew someone was fooling around on his account, so I messaged him to tell him (he’s working at a different store today). He deleted it promptly and apologized. And of course that’s when my anger and anxiety kicks it.

I know she was just trying to be funny… but anything involving rape or assault is never funny. Ever. And I can’t even explain how triggering it was to see that, and see that it was posted from my boyfriend’s account no less. Maybe it all sounds petty to an outsider, but from my perspective, having been sexually assaulted and been dealing with the consequences of said assault for over a year now, it’s not petty at all.

I’m shaking. I want to curl up on the floor and cry. Hurt myself. Die. I’m so anxious and upset.

Memories, memories memories. Flooding back faster than I can calculate, making me dizzy with the images and dialogue of that day.

She said sorry, but that’s besides the point. Things like that are never funny. And going on to my boyfriend’s account is an invasion of privacy. She could have just logged off. Or posted something not offensive. But really, she should just stay off of people’s private things. Now I’m paranoid she might have read messages between him and I. Intimate messages, scary messages, messages that are dark and have me explaining parts of the deep terrifying abyss that’s my mind.

I’m just.. angry. And part of me feels bad and petty and over dramatic, because I know she didn’t mean any harm and she’s a nice girl.. but why couldn’t she just mind her business and think about other people who would see that? 

Especially me, his girlfriend. Like hello?

 

I dunno. I feel ridiculous and validated at the same time..

It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.
—Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Updates and the like.

My birthday was Thursday. I had two friends request plans with me but I honestly just felt like doing something with only my boyfriend and family. Especially since both of these friends made me seriously miserable last birthday. So I turned 24 in the company of B and my family.

B took me on a small shopping trip to buy new clothes, since I’ve lost so much weight and none of mine fit! He’s so sweet and thoughtful, I felt really bad about it, but that’s what he wanted to do for my birthday and I kind of needed new clothes, so I tried to not feel so guilty. Trying on all my new outfits was a huge confidence booster since it made it clear to me just how much smaller I’ve gotten, even the clothes I had set on layaway fit better than 3 weeks ago. Then we went to see a movie (22 Jump Street; HILARIOUS!). After that we went home and he cooked me a really nice surf n turf dinner, then we all ate cake and ice cream. 

All in all it was a good birthday, I was in a great mood all day and feeling very cheery and positive.

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In just about four days we’re going to spend almost a week up in New Hampshire with my best friend and her boyfriend. I AM SO EXCITED. Six months is way too long to be without her. I can’t wait to see her and talk about all the bad shit that’s happened in the past few months. No one quite gets my dark side like she does. I can’t wait for adventures in the forest, swimming at the lake with the mountains surrounding us, nights on the boardwalk with the beach, fireworks, and late night hustle and bustle. I can’t wait to have just a girls day where we hang out downtown checking out the quirky shops and cafes. I just really freaking miss her and I’m so anxious for this trip. Being away from home will also be kind of a relief; home gets hectic and tense and sometimes it just makes me feel worse off. It’ll be nice to be away for a bit and be with people my own age who understand me and I can just be completely myself and not worry about a thing.

I miss writing. I miss conversing with others. I’m going to try to update my blog more often. I guess lately I just haven’t had much to talk about.

Old friendships returning?

I’ve previously written about a falling out I had with a friend who I called ‘A’
The story about it is on here somewhere.

Well, she’d contacted me after a year of not being in each other’s lives at all, yesterday. She said she wanted to know how I was, if I wanted to meet up and grab some coffee and chat. She told me she didn’t understand why I stopped speaking to her. I told her the truth; about how I could not handle the cruel remarks said about my family, how it hurt she’d replaced me with other friends, how she made me feel isolated and like I was not worthy of her friendship. She told me she still wanted to meet up and talk about everything, and make things right.

So we did. It went surprisingly well. No animosity at all, and we picked up right where we left off as if nothing changed. She apologized for what she did and said, explaining she never meant to hurt me and was just upset that the family member had hurt me because she cared. I told her I can’t allow that, because my family is all I have, and she said she understood and it wouldn’t happen again, though her feelings about said person still remain the same, which is fine; not everyone will get along, they don’t speak, and as long as she keeps her opinions to herself I don’t care.

I am still very hurt about all the things that have happened, and probably always will be. I don’t think I spoke enough of what she did wrong, and why it hurt me, but there will be more moments where I can speak up. I find myself wondering if I regret letting her back into my life, solely for the fact that the borderline aspect of myself makes it nearly impossible to forget the way people do me wrong, ever. But we were great friends at one point, so maybe it’s worth letting her back, and seeing where it leads.

I doubt it will ever be like it was, and I kind of do not want it to honestly, I prefer to keep my distance from people who’ve done me wrong in the sense that I can’t trust her again with anything personal or rely on her, but I know she isn’t a bad person, I know she cares for me, and she’s fun to hang out with so at least there is that.

Half of me is glad we are on good/friendly terms now, half of me is wondering if it’s all an act. B says though she wouldn’t have tried for so long to get me to speak to her if it was fake. But you know how my mind works if you read my blog regularly. 

I don’t know. Mixed feelings.