i don't remember the first time i felt unbeautiful, the day i chose not to eat

It's funny the impact just eating has on me. It's a natural human process. It's something we have to do to survive. And yet, it's something that I struggle with and that tears me apart.

I had a good dinner tonight. Best I've had in quite awhile. And because of that, I'm still awake even though it's 2 am. My brain won't be quiet. Lord knows it's a good thing I ate as my weight is the lowest it's been in years. Lord knows I need the calories and nutrients.  But it's difficult.

I know I've lost weight lately. I know I should care more about getting food into my system. But it's difficult to muster up the willingness to care. It's difficult to get food into me. I don't know what I'm going to have to do to get myself to eat. It's terrifying, really, the way this disorder, this sickness controls me.

I don't want to be this way, but I don't know how to be any other. And frankly, to cross to the other side is terrifying. To recover. To be healed. To be whole. It's kind of a paradox because I don't want to get better yet I want to. I want to yet I don't now how. What if I don't like being healthy? What if I gain too much weight? What if I flip to the other extreme and start eating too much?

And now it's approaching 3. And I still can't sleep. And it's taken me THIS long to write this short of an entry. But why? I don't want to finally meet the diagnostic criteria for anorexia, because on one hand while I feel ED-NOS is "not legit", I know it is. I know that you don't have to be severely underweight to die or have serious health effects from an eating disorder.

But at the same thing... it's kind of like a verse in the Bible. "The things I don't want to do I do, the things I want to do I don't." It just feels that I get trapped. Completely Trapped.

And  I don't now what to do. It's hard because I'm having a bad PTSD night. It's well after 3 am, everyone is asleep. Everyone, that is, but me. Because I'm scared to sleep. Because I'm afraid of what will happen if I sleep. Because being scared to sleep as a child is still ingrained in me. because I'm still at my core, terrified.

How do you measure, measure a year

One year ago today I was up at a godawful early hour, getting ready to get my spine fused. Oh look, I took a picture that morning!

Zoe and I were ready to kick some spinal fusion ass.

And in that year, so much has changed. I had issues due to a medication mixup. I still have chronic pain but it's not due to the back, per se, more the NF1. I have a loose screw. 

But what else has changed in that year?

I transferred schools, I got dx'd with fibromalgia. I had family issues, friend issues. Eating disorder has sent me on a roller coaster. But I've grown. Well, literally. Spinal fusion made me taller!

I haz a tall.

I'd write more on my one year date, but I'll do "one year and a few days" later this week. I still have a couple assignments to turn it and then I'm FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Free falling, as free as the... nevermind.

Randomsauce.

Because reason says I should have died three years ago

I am told that it is nothing short of a miracle I am alive, be it by the circumstances of life or be it by my own hand. I am told that many other people in my shoes would be homeless, would be drug addicts, would be drunkards. That I shouldn't be alive due to medicine mixups, ailments, and various things I have.

At the same time, I've been told that if I just had more faith I would be healed. If I just believed I could overcome, things would be better. The truth is, I've accepted things to be the way they are. It doesn't mean I don't channel my energy in recovery. What it does mean is like in the serenity prayer, I accept the things I cannot change and must have the courage to change the things I can.

Oh look, I can climb the twisty thing!

Just because I've accepted my disabilities, I feel, doesn't mean that I've let them pull me down. I've really beaten incredible odds. I've overcome so much. I still have much to overcome. I know that due to genetics my general health will continue to demolish itself. I know that if I try to push myself, believing if I just do a little better I can overcome, I will wind up making things a bazillion times worse. To focus on what I cannot do would be foolish. I can play on playgrounds, I can wade in the water. I can take walks. I can so much! Why pull myself down by  bashing myself?

I can play in the water!

I can't control what my father did in the past and I can't deny the impact it has with me today. I can control how I choose to act on the result. I can't control the fact that I'm disabled for likely life, but I can choose to accept it and make the best of my life, no matter how long or short it is. The important thing is that I keep on keeping on, and instead, continue to defy odds. Continue to shoot down the ones who say I can't make it. You know what? I may not make it in the traditional sense. But it doesn't mean I have to give up hope, that I have to quit at life. Instead, it fuels me to go forward, propels me to keep swimming (even though, well, I can't swim) and gives me a reason to survive.

And if you care to find me, look towards the western sky

As someone told me lately, everyone deserves a chance to fly

And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free

To those who ground me take a message back from me!

Tell them how I'm defying gravity, I'm flying high, defying gravity...

Wicked - "Defying Gravity."

I only know it hurts, to see my only friend slowly fade away

Sometimes the internet sucks.

I love the Internet. It's awesome. It's amazing. It lets me talk to people when I'm in pain and when I've lost my voice. I've made friendships that I wouldn't have otherwise. But at the same time...

I think there are few things more heartbreaking then being so far away and not being able to help a friend. I think there's few things more difficult then wanting, so badly just to be there but being miles, oceans, lakes, whatever away.

I have a fixer-upper personality. I want to fix my friends problems. I want to take their mind off things. But it tears me apart not to be able to help. I want to help my friends that are hurting! I want to make things right!

The internet keeps us connected, but at the same time it completely breaks my heart. I'm glad I can 'listen' via MSN and AIM and Facebook...

... but how do I help when I'm so far away and so helpless? *thud*

Lord I lift my friend to You.
I've done all that I know to do.
I lift my friend, to You.
Complicated circumstances
have clouded his view.
Lord I lift my friend up to You.

I fear that I won't have the words
that he needs to hear.
I pray for Your wisdom , oh God.
And a heart that's sincere.
And Lord I lift my friend up
to You.

Lord I lift my friend to You.
My best friend in the
world, I know he means much
more to You.
I want so much to help him, but
this is something he has to do.
Lord I lift my friend up to You.

There's a way that seems so right to him.
But You know where that leads.
He's becoming a puppet of the world.
Too blind to see the strings.
And Lord I lift my friend up to You.

Lord I lift my friend to You.
I've done all that I know to do.
I lift my friend, to You.
Casting Crowns - Prayer For A Friend

And I know, you won't feel this way forever

Not even a month ago, I was started on a new antidepressant. Before I was trapped in depression. Trapped.

But now things are looking up. I'm having horrible side effects, but maybe my nice shrink with a southern accent can find a similar one or maybe he can find something to counteract them.

There is just one week left of classes. One week!! It's at this lovely state in the semester where things are just not going all that well..

But it doesn't mean things are going poorly. I'm at my breaking point stress wise, but things are looking up. It doesn't mean things are perfect, but it means they are looking up. Things won't always be this way. 

Some days are still terrible. Some days I feel like relasping into self injury. I know, I know, it sounds silly and maybe it is. I recently passed the ten year mark from the first time I cut. I still remember that day, still remember it so clearly. And for so long, I thought I was so clever. That I was masking my pain. That I was dealing with my pain. That I had my own little secret way of dealing with the world, hidden under my shirt sleeves. But I was young, I was naive. I didn't know, couldn't know, wouldn't know that by masking the pain, when it came to surface, it only got worse. And so, when once one cut would suffice, now it would take two. Then three. Then four. Until my arms looked horrible. Until I had to move to my legs. And as much as I would welcome the nirvana, the bittersweet Ecstasy of cutting again... it's not worth it. At times I think the break from the pain would be worth it, then I'd deserve it coming back so much.

But the thing is? I don't deserve pain. For years, and I admit, some days I still do, it feels like  it was all my fault. Maybe if I had been a better behaved child. Maybe if I had been cuter. Maybe if I would have run away. Maybe if I would have done drugs. Maybe if I would have drank. Maybe if I would have told someone what my father was doing instead of hiding it, even denying it for years. Maybe if I would have fought back. I had so many chances in high school to say what my dad was doing. There was the time I fell apart in youth group, and one of the sponsors asked if everything was okay at home. There were the countless doctor appointments that asked if I was safe at home. There were the teachers that reached out to me.

The thing was, I was young and I was scared. Would people have believed me? Would things have gotten worse had I told? I don't know. But the thing is, it's not my fault. It wasn't my fault. It was never my fault.

And even if, for some reason, it was my fault, it doesn't make any of it okay. It doesn't make my childhood okay, even if I did mess up at times. It doesn't make what my dad did right, not remotely. And even if my actions DID cause him to act that way, it wasn't right. Not in any way shape or form.

That said, I started this blog taking one track, and it took another. Things are looking up. I'm finding hope again. Moreso, I'm enjoying things again. I'm not playing games just as an escape, but I'm enjoying them. It's the little things. I'm starting to sleep again, even! Sleep is good. Usually.

And now I'm going to play Final Fantasy 8 and talk on MSN for a bit before going to bed early, so tomorrow I can talk on MSN, clean, and do homework. So I can do what I love on Sunday and play music in church then come home and study and clean. I'm going to close this entry with lyrics to one of my favourite songs. ^_^

Spoken - Promise.
(Verse 1)
Yet another day seems like its wasted
You don't feel youre any closer to the prize
A dead end job where there's no future
Praying that tomorrow things wont be this way

(Chorus)
Things will get better this I promise you
And I know that you won't feel this way forever
Things will get better this I promise you
And I know loneliness wont last forever

(Verse 2)
Yet another day, another tired morning
You're catching up to your intentions
Your'e thinking life has to be easier than this
Maybe tomorrow things wont be this way

(Chorus)
Things will get better this I promise you
and I know it won't feel this way forever
Things will get better this I promise you
and I know we can find a way to make it better
things will get better this I promise you 

(Outro)
Things will get better this I promise you
And I know it won't feel this way forever
Things will get better this I promise you
And I know loneliness won't last forever
Things will get better this I promise you
And I know things will get better this I promise you
And I know things will get better this I promise you
And I know loneliness won't last forever

Starving for Control

There's many things in life I cannot control. When I was 17, a lot of things that were out of my control happened. My private Christian school closed down, mere weeks before the start of the new school year. My health wasn't all that great. I had poor coping skills then, so I lapsed back into cutting and my eating disorder. It started at an even younger age, but it started getting bad then. I wasn't happy, although I tried my hardest to act like I was. It was terrible.

You'd never guess I was hiding fresh cuts and living with depression..

You'd never know, never guess, never dream that I was suffering from depression. It wasn't my personality - I was the bright, bubbly girl who laughed a lot, seemed loved and well-adjusted, and seemed to have many friends. But at the same time, I was crippled with depression. I was starving for control, as a way to control my out of control life, out of control emotions, as a way to try and steer the roller coaster we call life. It seemed like a good idea, at the time, to control my weight. To control my eating. To control everything I could within my power, even if it wasn't beneficial, even if it wasn't happy. For by sabotaging myself like that, at least wen everything fell apart it was my fault and somehow, it's easier to swallow the pill of everything sucking if I can blame myself versus being perfectly innocent.

I find myself still in the state these days. To the point where my eating is to the point where I don't even want to get weighed. It feels like this:

So literally, I start starving for control. Even though it would make more sense to control my eating sensibly,
 it's not that simple. Body image is a huge problem for me, not eating serves as a form of self injury when I'm in a state where I can't relapse into cutting, and it's just one feeble way I could control. I could control my video games. I could control my Sims. I could control my pokemon.

I have a headache. Why are you dragging me into this?

I feel like I'm trapped. That this has become an addiction, and what I was controlling now controls me. What I struggle to hard to keep control of just sends me further into despair, anger, rage, pain, angst. I just feel so helpless at how badly out of control things have gotten, and I just want to reign in control again...