I woke up this morning to a phone call from my mom-- I had been ignoring her calls since Tuesday, but for some reason I picked up today. It was only a 5 minute phone call, but she asked how I was doing and asked if I wanted her to call tomorrow. I said no, I didn't want that. When we were hanging up she slipped in an "I love you [NOS]."
I feel so terribly guilty. I am such a horrible child, but for some reason my mom still loves me. I really don't deserve her love. My mom has to live life in constant fear that I may kill myself. I constantly behave like I'm angry with her when really I am just taking my depression out on the only person who will take it. She has spent inordinate amounts of money to get me therapy and treatment only to have me fuck everything up every single time. Yet still she loves me. I wish she didn't. I deserve nothing.
Oh, and remember the talk I was supposed to have with EN on Thursday night? Well, we had it. Walking together from a meeting to a few blocks from our apartments (we're neighbors) where she left me to go have sex with the guy she is currently sleeping with. I was in tears, and she left me. What a great "friend."
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
I Hate Everything
I have left the Sobbing stage of crippling depression and have entered the "I Hate Everything" stage. Well, that's actually not true. I have entered some sort of amalgam stage in which I am apathetic, despondent, and constantly blinking back tears.
I had my weekly appointment with Dr. S today. It was quick and dirty, and I told her that I no longer wanted to see her every week. I told her that I was just burned out from going to appointments all of the time, and she was accepting of that. I know I'm pushing away someone who cares about me, but I was just so angry with my life of having to go to appointment to appointment that I had to stop it.
I also had my appointment with Shrinkiepoo today, and I decided that I officially hate him (although this may be a side effect of the "I Hate Everything" stage). I told him that I can't do the TMS because I can't fit it into my schedule (it takes about an hour and a half each day), so his solution was to tell me to rearrange my life and quit my activities. I can't just rearrange my life-- I have two jobs and classwork to do. All he did was pressure me the entire time.
On the bus ride back from Shrinkiepoo's my sister A called me. We spoke for a while, and she said that if I wanted to do the TMS that I could take time off from uni. I immediately broke down into tears. I told her that I feel shitty about myself enough after having taken a year and a half off of school already, and that leaving school would have insurmountable effects on my self-esteem. I told her that I feel like the Red Queen from Through The Looking Glass:
I have to work twice as hard as the other students at my uni to get to zero. And I'm sick of it. I told A that Shrinkiepoo thinks I may die before the end of the semester and she started to cry. She said that all our family cares about is that I'm happy and healthy, but I fear that's the one thing they'll never get.
EN and I were supposed to talk tonight about how I am falling apart, but I think she has forgotten. Because I don't matter.
I had my weekly appointment with Dr. S today. It was quick and dirty, and I told her that I no longer wanted to see her every week. I told her that I was just burned out from going to appointments all of the time, and she was accepting of that. I know I'm pushing away someone who cares about me, but I was just so angry with my life of having to go to appointment to appointment that I had to stop it.
I also had my appointment with Shrinkiepoo today, and I decided that I officially hate him (although this may be a side effect of the "I Hate Everything" stage). I told him that I can't do the TMS because I can't fit it into my schedule (it takes about an hour and a half each day), so his solution was to tell me to rearrange my life and quit my activities. I can't just rearrange my life-- I have two jobs and classwork to do. All he did was pressure me the entire time.
On the bus ride back from Shrinkiepoo's my sister A called me. We spoke for a while, and she said that if I wanted to do the TMS that I could take time off from uni. I immediately broke down into tears. I told her that I feel shitty about myself enough after having taken a year and a half off of school already, and that leaving school would have insurmountable effects on my self-esteem. I told her that I feel like the Red Queen from Through The Looking Glass:
"Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"
I have to work twice as hard as the other students at my uni to get to zero. And I'm sick of it. I told A that Shrinkiepoo thinks I may die before the end of the semester and she started to cry. She said that all our family cares about is that I'm happy and healthy, but I fear that's the one thing they'll never get.
EN and I were supposed to talk tonight about how I am falling apart, but I think she has forgotten. Because I don't matter.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sobbing
Today I had my intake at the TMS Treatment Center. Surprise, surprise, they said I was a good candidate for the treatment and tried very hard to push it on me. I told them I'd think about it, but I'm leaning towards no. I have no idea why.
I also don't know why I have been sobbing for over an hour. All I can think about is the hell I live in, day in and day out. I have grown apathetic about everything in life-- I just don't care. I want to just walk in front of a bus and end this pain once and for all. Nothing good will come out of my life anyway; I'm too crippled to do any of the things that I want to do. I used to want to be a doctor, but I wouldn't last a day in med school. I used to have drive, but it has vanished.
I am only a shell of a person. A wretched person.
I also don't know why I have been sobbing for over an hour. All I can think about is the hell I live in, day in and day out. I have grown apathetic about everything in life-- I just don't care. I want to just walk in front of a bus and end this pain once and for all. Nothing good will come out of my life anyway; I'm too crippled to do any of the things that I want to do. I used to want to be a doctor, but I wouldn't last a day in med school. I used to have drive, but it has vanished.
I am only a shell of a person. A wretched person.
Monday, February 22, 2010
With A Little Help
With a Little Help From My Friends, The Beatles
(This song is so beautiful, I have been listening to it on repeat for the past two days. It makes me wish I had friends.)
What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,
And I'll try not to sing out of key.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends.
Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends.
Mmm, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.
What do I do when my love is away?
Does it worry you to be alone?
How do I feel by the end of the day?
Are you sad because you're on your own?
No, I get by with a little help from my friends.
Mmm, get high with a little help from my friends.
Mmm, gonna to try with a little help from my friends.
Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.
Would you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes I'm certain that it happens all the time.
What do you see when you turn out the light?
I can't tell you, but I know it's mine.
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.
Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends.
Oh, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.
Do you need anybody?
I just need someone to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends.
Ooh, I get high with a little help from my friends.
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,
With a little help from my friends.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Not Too Shabby
Today has been a relatively good day. I spent it alone (of course), studying and reading for most of the day with a gym break somewhere in the afternoon. I really enjoy going to the gym-- I wish that I had more time/energy to go there. Maybe this week I'll make it a goal to go four times and see if I can establish some sort of routine.
The roughest part of today was a brief lapse into anxiety about my intake appointment at the TMS Treatment Center. I considered canceling it because I am still terrified of undergoing such a drastic treatment. After the anxiety calmed a bit I decided not to cancel the appointment even though I am scared. I guess we'll have to see what tomorrow brings in terms of the anxiety. We'll have to see if I can handle it.
The roughest part of today was a brief lapse into anxiety about my intake appointment at the TMS Treatment Center. I considered canceling it because I am still terrified of undergoing such a drastic treatment. After the anxiety calmed a bit I decided not to cancel the appointment even though I am scared. I guess we'll have to see what tomorrow brings in terms of the anxiety. We'll have to see if I can handle it.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Pretty Rough Week
I'm sorry I haven't been writing (once again). I have had a pretty rough week.
On Thursday I had my weekly appointment with Shrinkiepoo who, as per usual, told me that I am severely limiting myself by refusing to take "reasonable" medication that have the side effect of weight gain. I suddenly got very angry with him, telling him that for me these medications are NOT reasonable because I am terrified of gaining weight. I told him that he has no idea what it is like to live in my body, and having to live in a fatter one would certainly push me over the edge. I told him that he has no idea what it is like to live in my mind-- a brain that tortures me on a daily basis. He seemed to be taken aback by my sudden assertiveness, but I was just so furious that it was painfully clear that he just doesn't get it.
In response, he upped my I'mNotSickButI'mNotWellbutrin.
After my session, I spent the rest of the day paralyzed with depression and anger. Somehow my feelings spiraled quickly downward. I could not get out of my bed, literally. I couldn't make it to the bathroom to take a shower, brush my teeth, or wash my face. I was frozen with fright of the prospect of having to wake up and go to work and on Friday. But somehow I made it to my obligations, but I was despondent. I barely spoke to anyone and blinked back tears all day.
Now I'm feeling better, but stressed. I have a paper due Monday as well as a midterm, not to mention the regular work from my classes on top of that. It looks like I will be spending another weekend locked up in my apartment with my books.
I am saddened by my existence.
On Thursday I had my weekly appointment with Shrinkiepoo who, as per usual, told me that I am severely limiting myself by refusing to take "reasonable" medication that have the side effect of weight gain. I suddenly got very angry with him, telling him that for me these medications are NOT reasonable because I am terrified of gaining weight. I told him that he has no idea what it is like to live in my body, and having to live in a fatter one would certainly push me over the edge. I told him that he has no idea what it is like to live in my mind-- a brain that tortures me on a daily basis. He seemed to be taken aback by my sudden assertiveness, but I was just so furious that it was painfully clear that he just doesn't get it.
In response, he upped my I'mNotSickButI'mNotWellbutrin.
After my session, I spent the rest of the day paralyzed with depression and anger. Somehow my feelings spiraled quickly downward. I could not get out of my bed, literally. I couldn't make it to the bathroom to take a shower, brush my teeth, or wash my face. I was frozen with fright of the prospect of having to wake up and go to work and on Friday. But somehow I made it to my obligations, but I was despondent. I barely spoke to anyone and blinked back tears all day.
Now I'm feeling better, but stressed. I have a paper due Monday as well as a midterm, not to mention the regular work from my classes on top of that. It looks like I will be spending another weekend locked up in my apartment with my books.
I am saddened by my existence.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Opening Up To EN
Once again, I'm sorry for not posting as often as I would like to. I just sometimes feel that I am being repetitive with all of my problems that don't go away.
I told my friend EN that I have completely relapsed in terms of my eating disorder and that my depression is in full-force. I don't know why I told her-- I guess I just needed an outlet. She asked me what a day in my life is like and I told her that I wake up tired, depressed and unmotivated and spend the whole day on the verge of tears (she said she has noticed this). She then asked if there was anything she could do to help me, but I said no. There really isn't anything anyone can do. It's saddening.
In other news, I made an intake appointment with the TMS clinic for early next week. I'm scared to pursue this path, but it's hard for me to pinpoint why. I guess I'm used to shoveling pills down my throat-- I've been doing that for years-- but this just seems different and severe. I guess the argument could be made that my depression is different and severe, but I'm still unsure. Going to the intake appointment doesn't necessarily mean that I will be going through with the treatment, but it's definitely a step in that direction.
I feel like I could use a good cry to Shrinkiepoo, but for some reason I have been unable to cry in his presence recently. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for Thursday.
I told my friend EN that I have completely relapsed in terms of my eating disorder and that my depression is in full-force. I don't know why I told her-- I guess I just needed an outlet. She asked me what a day in my life is like and I told her that I wake up tired, depressed and unmotivated and spend the whole day on the verge of tears (she said she has noticed this). She then asked if there was anything she could do to help me, but I said no. There really isn't anything anyone can do. It's saddening.
In other news, I made an intake appointment with the TMS clinic for early next week. I'm scared to pursue this path, but it's hard for me to pinpoint why. I guess I'm used to shoveling pills down my throat-- I've been doing that for years-- but this just seems different and severe. I guess the argument could be made that my depression is different and severe, but I'm still unsure. Going to the intake appointment doesn't necessarily mean that I will be going through with the treatment, but it's definitely a step in that direction.
I feel like I could use a good cry to Shrinkiepoo, but for some reason I have been unable to cry in his presence recently. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for Thursday.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Saturday Night, Home Alone
I woke up today feeling a little down, but I managed not to let that feeling dictate my day. I got a lot of work done, went to work, attended a meeting, and went to the gym. All in all, not a terrible day.
But going to the gym on a Saturday evening was slightly depressing-- it was completely empty, as though I am the only one on campus who does not have friends to hang out with on a Saturday night. I don't know what uni students do on weekends, but I highly doubt they spend every waking hour doing work (which is what I do). I have been here for three years and I have only gone out on a Saturday night once-- my first Saturday during New Student Orientation three years ago. Every weekend is like a reminder that I have no friends and no life.
But the thing is, even if I did have friends I don't think I would go out on weekends. My depression prevents me from being the bubbly person that the world seems to want everyone to be, my social phobia prevents me from being at ease around people, and my eating disorder prevents me from drinking (I'm afraid of the calories in alcohol), which is what everyone seems to do around here.
My NOS disorders keep me boxed in a very small world. This makes me sad.
But going to the gym on a Saturday evening was slightly depressing-- it was completely empty, as though I am the only one on campus who does not have friends to hang out with on a Saturday night. I don't know what uni students do on weekends, but I highly doubt they spend every waking hour doing work (which is what I do). I have been here for three years and I have only gone out on a Saturday night once-- my first Saturday during New Student Orientation three years ago. Every weekend is like a reminder that I have no friends and no life.
But the thing is, even if I did have friends I don't think I would go out on weekends. My depression prevents me from being the bubbly person that the world seems to want everyone to be, my social phobia prevents me from being at ease around people, and my eating disorder prevents me from drinking (I'm afraid of the calories in alcohol), which is what everyone seems to do around here.
My NOS disorders keep me boxed in a very small world. This makes me sad.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Low Points This Week
I'm sorry my writing has been so sparse lately. I have been having trouble motivating myself to get to the computer and compose a post.
This week has been okay, but it has certainly had its low points. Monday, for instance, was hard, but you already know about that.
On Tuesday, at the behest of Shrinkiepoo, I went to see a psychiatrist who specializes in eating disorders for a consultation. In anticipation of these consultations I always underestimate how hard it will be talking about my life and my history. Recounting my overdoses, hospitalizations, failed stints in treatment, and my lack of social support really took its toll on me. I began to cry and continued doing so throughout the day (while listening to sad music).
The consulting psychiatrist recommended I try Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation, or TMS, to treat my treatment-resistant depression. For the past two years I have been urged by Shrinkiepoo and various consultants to try TMS, but now it's looking like a real possibility and I am scared. What if it works? Who will I be if I am not depressed? And worse, what if it doesn't work? I would be left even more hopeless than I am now. I am currently grappling with the decision to call to schedule a consultation with the TMS people. It's tough.
And to top things off, hearing about the suicide of Alexander McQueen just makes me think about my own suicide. I hope he is resting peacefully, free from whatever demons he was dealing with. I kind of wish I were with him.
This week has been okay, but it has certainly had its low points. Monday, for instance, was hard, but you already know about that.
On Tuesday, at the behest of Shrinkiepoo, I went to see a psychiatrist who specializes in eating disorders for a consultation. In anticipation of these consultations I always underestimate how hard it will be talking about my life and my history. Recounting my overdoses, hospitalizations, failed stints in treatment, and my lack of social support really took its toll on me. I began to cry and continued doing so throughout the day (while listening to sad music).
The consulting psychiatrist recommended I try Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation, or TMS, to treat my treatment-resistant depression. For the past two years I have been urged by Shrinkiepoo and various consultants to try TMS, but now it's looking like a real possibility and I am scared. What if it works? Who will I be if I am not depressed? And worse, what if it doesn't work? I would be left even more hopeless than I am now. I am currently grappling with the decision to call to schedule a consultation with the TMS people. It's tough.
And to top things off, hearing about the suicide of Alexander McQueen just makes me think about my own suicide. I hope he is resting peacefully, free from whatever demons he was dealing with. I kind of wish I were with him.
The Only Thing That's Real
Hurt, Johnny Cash
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
Monday, February 8, 2010
Guilt-Inducing Call
Today was a good day until about two hours ago. KH, my therapist from treatment called to check up on me to see how I am doing. To begin, I'm not sure how I feel about this practice in the first place. I really like KH but it feels kind of intrusive when he calls or emails every week. Also (and I am so glad that I am anonymous so I can say this) he has said and done some really inappropriate things that I believe violate the client-therapist relationship. I know he means well, but I feel uncomfortable when he tells me he loves me etc. (I actually feel really conflicted about his behavior; like I said, I really like him and wouldn't want him to be in trouble but it makes me ill at ease. At least I am not within his reach anymore.)
Anyway, he asked me how I am doing and I told him the truth: my mood has seen some improvement but my eating is not in good shape. I told him that I have been using symptoms daily and that I'm not sure if I really want to give up my eating disorder. He spent the rest of the call trying to convince me to go to uni where he teaches so that I could do an intensive outpatient/partial hospitalization program at the inpatient facility where we met. I told him that I can't just give up everything I have over here-- I've worked my ass off to get here and I'm not going to throw it away so easily. He begged me to consider this option and told me he believed in my ability to recover.
Now I feel like crap. I feel I have let him down, like I have let everyone down. My whole life seems to ride on how I eat and I am unable to do it properly. I feel so guilty for being such a screw-up. I have wasted KH's time and most likely hurt his feelings. I feel terrible. I am terrible.
Anyway, he asked me how I am doing and I told him the truth: my mood has seen some improvement but my eating is not in good shape. I told him that I have been using symptoms daily and that I'm not sure if I really want to give up my eating disorder. He spent the rest of the call trying to convince me to go to uni where he teaches so that I could do an intensive outpatient/partial hospitalization program at the inpatient facility where we met. I told him that I can't just give up everything I have over here-- I've worked my ass off to get here and I'm not going to throw it away so easily. He begged me to consider this option and told me he believed in my ability to recover.
Now I feel like crap. I feel I have let him down, like I have let everyone down. My whole life seems to ride on how I eat and I am unable to do it properly. I feel so guilty for being such a screw-up. I have wasted KH's time and most likely hurt his feelings. I feel terrible. I am terrible.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Some Improvement
Wow. I haven't posted anything on here for a week. I apologize sincerely!
I'm still kind of in a weird space like I was last Monday. I don't feel good but I don't feel so terrible. But I am having those odd trance-like states in which I envision myself carrying out a suicide plan. All in all things are better than they were two weeks ago (I can't believe it's been two weeks already).
Things haven't been going very well in terms of eating, however. I called my dietitian and told her that I no longer wanted to see her, that there is no point in us meeting if my eating disorder is pretty much calling the shots.
I've been seeing an eating disorder specialist doctor (I'll call her Dr. S) once a week at my uni's Student Health clinic. I really like her, but she doesn't seem to think that I'll be able to last the rest of the semester if I keep behaving like I do (that is, restricting). She asked me what I see myself doing if I do make it through the semester-- would I end up back in residential treatment? I told her that I wouldn't go back. Why invest all of that money and time in something that is essentially futile?
So I guess there has been some improvement in my life. I wonder if I'll make it over the hump and into "happiness" territory. Experience tells me likely not.
I'm still kind of in a weird space like I was last Monday. I don't feel good but I don't feel so terrible. But I am having those odd trance-like states in which I envision myself carrying out a suicide plan. All in all things are better than they were two weeks ago (I can't believe it's been two weeks already).
Things haven't been going very well in terms of eating, however. I called my dietitian and told her that I no longer wanted to see her, that there is no point in us meeting if my eating disorder is pretty much calling the shots.
I've been seeing an eating disorder specialist doctor (I'll call her Dr. S) once a week at my uni's Student Health clinic. I really like her, but she doesn't seem to think that I'll be able to last the rest of the semester if I keep behaving like I do (that is, restricting). She asked me what I see myself doing if I do make it through the semester-- would I end up back in residential treatment? I told her that I wouldn't go back. Why invest all of that money and time in something that is essentially futile?
So I guess there has been some improvement in my life. I wonder if I'll make it over the hump and into "happiness" territory. Experience tells me likely not.
Monday, February 1, 2010
In A Weird Space
I'm trying determine how I am feeling today, and I'm having a hard time. I am not feeling as acutely suicidal as I was on Thursday, so maybe the I'mNotSickButI'mNotWellbutrin is doing something. But nonetheless I feel weird. Not numb, not good. I have been having tiny vivid episodes during the day during which I plan my suicide-- they're really odd. They feel almost trance-like.
I've been having the thought that my early death is inevitable, so why prolong life? Why not just give into my Thanatos?
My friend SH is on pass from the residential treatment center that I went to last year, and she contacted me. I felt really bad being honest with her about how I am doing-- I feel like I am a burden or somehow bringing her down. I didn't even tell her about how I have completely relapsed in terms of my eating disorder, I only told her about my depression. I'm worried that she may decide to cut off contact with me because my presence may not be conducive to her recovery. I really don't have any friends to spare.
I guess we'll have to see where the next few days take me. To my grave? Or someplace else?
I've been having the thought that my early death is inevitable, so why prolong life? Why not just give into my Thanatos?
My friend SH is on pass from the residential treatment center that I went to last year, and she contacted me. I felt really bad being honest with her about how I am doing-- I feel like I am a burden or somehow bringing her down. I didn't even tell her about how I have completely relapsed in terms of my eating disorder, I only told her about my depression. I'm worried that she may decide to cut off contact with me because my presence may not be conducive to her recovery. I really don't have any friends to spare.
I guess we'll have to see where the next few days take me. To my grave? Or someplace else?
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