Just thoughts (this could be triggering to people with problems).

DDRgurl713's picture

Just thoughts (this could be triggering to people with problems).

This is long. So if you bare with me, I would appreciate it. I just kind of feel the need to get heard by strangers.

I feel comfortable on this website. Babbling to a bunch of strangers about my random problems. Since I have so many of them, unlimited blogging space is the way to go. And guess what? No body I know is on here. NO BODY. Which means that whatever I say, only random strangers read.

Like for example, the tiny eating disorder that I had three years ago still messes me up today. Everyday I'm conscience about who's looking at me while I eat. Everyday I would love to just not eat. Everyday I think "Maybe I can just chew it, but not swallow it". Every fucking day I go through this shit and it's been three years. And the crazy thing was that the actual eating disorder itself wasn't all that long. Three months. I don't get it. I should be over it. It doesn't help that all the weight I've ever lost I put back on immediately. Body issues 101.

Why do problems from the past constantly remind you everyday of what it could still be like? I loved having that control of not eating. And like when I used to drink. And when I used to take pills. I loved being under that kind of sedation. And when I cut. My biggest, most long last thing out of all my problems. Man, when I'm overwhelmed what wouldn't I do just to grab a razor and take all the stress and pain away. I would love for that. I would love to have all my problems back. Is that sick? It's not like it was attention getting (right now though it's pretty attention getting). Maybe one or two of my friends and my counselor knew maybe about the cutting and that was it. And the only person who knew about my not eating was my counselor. Eventually though, I was put on suicide watch every now and then by my parents because of my major freak outs. They knew something was wrong, they just didn't bother to figure out more than they necessarily had to. My mom eventually found out about my cutting (after a couple suicide watches). That was a pretty terrible day. It did work out for the best, but man, was it terrible at the time.

All I have on my mind right now is relapse. The past. Not moving forward and certainly not success. I definitely should be practicing piano. I have a lesson tomorrow. And she'll freak out at me because I suck. Like every week.

Relapse. Relapse. Relapse. I wonder if I still have ativan at home?

(and just so everyone knows, no, I do not have any MCR right now. schools block youtube. If I did have that, I would be all over that shit).

...oh wait...I know Cancer on piano now. That at least gets me over to the piano.

Okay, thanks for reading Jeannette Sad Blog of Doom. There's about a 64% chance that me playing Cancer will take me out of the feelings of wanting to relapse.

But seriously, yeah, for anybody who reads, it does mean a whole lot to me. I really appreciate it.