Meal of horror

I'm sorry my blog doesn't have a story line to make it sound interesting. When I apologize I'm saying it to the Blog, because to me the Blogspot site is like a friend, as wouldn't any friend you don't know well would share useless information on the internet, especially about someone silly enough to confess it. 

So today. I got told by my doctor if i dont gain weight this month he might put me in hospital cos im low in everything and its beginning to effect my organs. Little did he know i was wearing heavy clothes and had just drank a liter of water and soup before weigh in. I don't think I will go to hospital I think I will just try to maintain weight because then isn't it not Anorexia if I can stay a weight not constantly losing? I don't think I have a problem. I'm not that obsessed. I want to stay in control and I know control of eating is a symptom but I really don't see it being a problem. I would look better I think if I was skinnier. I hate many parts of me especially thighs but I noticed today whilst trying to do sit ups which didn't hurt as I was sore from the night befores, that I could get my fingers under my ribs and hold it if I sucked my gut in. Weird. So I've decided maybe try to get my nutrients up by whey based weight loss shakes as they maintain, gain and lose depending on how you use it but it scares me to think If its enough calories for tea how can it be for breakfast? Wouldn't a coffee be better for the stimulating caffeine and appetite suppressing? Very confused and unsure how to approach tomorrow. 

Until we meet again. 

Yesterday's forgotten, tomorrow a mystery and today a surprise. That's why it's called a present. (Emily Roosevelt I think... Don't quote me on that )

Surprised and shun Sunday

Sunday morning here I am. 

I did not overdose, I did not do anything wrong or take too many pills of anything, no cutting, no staying up late nothing.

This morning in a turn of unfortunate events I woke up with a burning pain in the stomach and had to run to the toilet immediately. I thought I was going to be coming out both ends as I was in so much pain and overwhelmed by burning cramps, I started crying and couldn't stop so I decided to go get a bucket downstairs and go to the toilet there as wouldn't disturb anyone, then I collapsed and fell down the stairs and continued to stumble as I regain consciousness only to lose it again, up down up down until minutes later my mother found me limp, which I don't remember, I could hear sirens but that was in my head then I was on the lounge where mum left me to take me to hospital. I didn't take anything I said again and again as my father swore and swore at me. Mum left me at the hospital and went back to get some paperwork which she took a while so I'm guessing copped some abuse from dad. When she came back I was slowly regaining consciousness by blood pressure on 80. To which was 90 last week on my overdose. 

Eventually came home and stayed in bed until 12, my mum force feeding me. 

Dad thinks I eat too much, then he tells me I don't eat enough, so I cannot please him. Ad now he won't even look at me because it pains him too much. I am too much a toxic of a daughter for him to know he created. I have failed him, and I now bare the guilt of my fathers dislike for me. :( it brings me to tears because I just want to please him. Same as when he abuses my mum about how I stopped playing piano, and then when I did play it was not to his standard, He doesn't even know how to play piano!!!!!

Not looking at me, not speaking to me, yelling t my mum about me. I'm the cause of I'd say 80% of their quarrels. 

I can't do anything to change this but hang my head in shame and think what a screw up I am because even if I was different it still would not be good enough for him.

And he wonders why I have problems with relationships.... 

Out of sunlight, out of mindful thinking

Was is something I did? Or do I just come across a good target or just that much of an outcast and can't let people in people just push me under the rug. I was right. I was ditched my birthday night, left to overdose. People I see and say Hi to turn and look the other way. My father is angry and ignoring me. I can say I want his attention as childish as that sounds but I feel I have failed him so much he does not want to have any more to do with me because it is too painful.

I think I am just not meant to have friends. I prefer teddy bears anyway. 

It's only nighttime as my medication is wearing off as it is time to dose up perhaps or my nocturnal thoughts consume me. I can pretend I am wise. Fake to myself that my confusing thoughts are clear. I doubt there is any benefit reading this flip flops of rubbish blog nod yet I continue to let out my mind. 

Writing it down does not make me "feel" anything as such but leads me to believe it is out of mind, or at least put into a context rather then circulating.

I wish things were different.

I wish I could forget what pains me and fills me with shame. 

The more I deny these facts to myself the darker I become. 

I feel trapped.

I feel worthless and unwanted. 

I wish someone with no unconditional love such as a family member would show me an inch of kindness so I can find hope towards the future. 

Feeling about due to overdose.

A reattributing vengeance

I have done it. I have seen the light. The light on my own stupidity and pety ignorance. I've lived 18 - 19 cutting with stitches, burning, starving and screaming. Through nightmares, terrors and sweats, overdoses and hearing voices. God, name it and I have survived it. The hurricane within myself with a tornado to the ground. I am now 20. A new beginning. Really no different to a week ago but I'm going to claim it so. 
I was informed of my antics of the last overdose, collapsing off the toilet face first to the ground, my poor Christian mother to pick up the pieces, oh and I had my phone with me, the new shock proof cover is proving its value.

I'm writing so fiercely and gallantly it feels. I just watched “the campaign”' to try and get the 1890 folk talk out of my head but it seems to be filling my head. Deadwood is just too good a show to turn off. Onto be in simpler times, simpler in ways but complicated in other ways. That is why I think reincarnation or past life bullshit is a load of crap. Every era is worth living so you can only live once, no one picks and choses oh hey I'm going to be wealthy here and run a saloon then riding a dinosaur as a microscopic bacteria embrio. But hey, you can believe in Santa so if you wanna believe that, good luck to you.

The thing is no matter what situation you may find yourself it can always be compared to someone worth. There's always going to be someone richer poorer, better looking, uglier etc its what choices you make and how you interpret them. 
And money is always the source of evil. Who do you think would be happier, a kid in the early 1950s with a balloon or a ball in cup, or a kid with an iPad or Xbox? Naturally you would assume the second and yet the rate of depressive disorders rise. 
Forget surveys, forgetting whatever mumbo-jumbo I'm rambling about and look at yourself, and what your going to focus on tomorrow, that is if you live through the night.

By the way my death situation last night was smoke inhalation. My fan engine failed and fumes filled my room, no fire as no heat from randomly not using my heater, and my ultrasonic vaporiser purifying the air. I woke to the smell and after dealing with it went back to sleep to wonder if it was a dream. It smelt like electrical burns so I'm lucky there was no backfire to my house catching fire.

The ifs and buts may catch you, but it happened out of my control. Now I have another old fan, questioning myself if it will fail or not. Can I take the chance? Can I I take the one in six chance of winning the deal or no deal?

I can go to bed and stop this nonsense.

P.s I apologise the rubbish talk of this becoming a published novel, for several reasons. Mainly this is hardly something classical to read compared to the ever popular “ diary of Anne Frank”' then again as I say, different times, the Fuehrer is dead and I am not living in hiding in an attic behind a bookcase. I am what some may call in modern times, not talking about technical advances as such as first world problems. Cripes, Shakespeare would roll over in his grave to know that the language he made poetic is now a dance of offensive contemptuous blasphemy and ridicule.

Sudden thought; sudden death.

I wouldn't suppose if I found some poor lost souls and conveyed them to publish my pathetic blog into a short book would they? Could be labelled "warning: examples of depression and borderline personality disorder= your new fucked up life. " or "what not to become". Honestly I wouldn't want people that know me to read it because I think it would be painful and I don't want to cause anymore pain to what family I have. But if reading this could help someone in some crazy way whether they have as little as a scratch on them or psychiatric disorder, I would help. People always need help and needn't be afraid to ask as human nature it is welcomed.

And with that I bid you Good night. xx 

Dear God, make me a bird.

I must be one of the most selfish beings. I tell myself about all the friends and relationships I don't have then don't see the family that I do have. Self judgement. If I died tonight which I just might. Only 20 by 6 or so hours and already my perspective of life is changing. Perhaps due to the liver cells I've damaged, the people I've hurt and betrayed, the episodes of Deadwood and SVU watched tonight, the delicious food I've eaten and the unconditional love my beautiful mother shines on me I've seen the light. That be said the battle of borderline personality disorder continues. I can feel like I don't wanna be known as the girl from that town that killed herself, but the suicidality blinks on me in a flash. 

I cant express anymore than I can speak. I call myself stupid and worthless daily and one realization does not change that. That will always almost happen but I can try, I can pray and I can believe. 

I thank God on this birthday for my family. Without them I internally would not exists.  

If I die this night (which I likely won't, I just can't sleep at the current time) I would encourage everyone to feel the rain on their face and remember me as that girl with a silly blog that would always rant on.  

Another day, another organ failure.

I don't remember waking Up or falling off the toilet crying and sleeping for hours on the outside swing seat. My mother is the caring understanding idol in my life , I bless her every day and  thank god every day for her. Without her I am literally fucked.

My father is of a different understanding of the situation at hand. I didn't want to die but be sees he has failed me and will not let on to understand further. I love my parents to death and honour them but I can only hope they feel the same towards I. .

I haven't seen my dead since he last swore at me this morning ? Time will only tell and hopefully time will only heal.

Until another moment of time worth to quote. I wish you all well.

Why did you let me swallows pills?

Not to be mellow dramatic.

I don't have friends, only family which is better in a way but pains me as much. You chose your friends and no one choses me. I've never been chosen, never to be sat with at school, included in events or house to go play at. No one choses me. Fuck them. Fuck the lot of them. I am sick and tired of bring everyone's fall back. I have enough issues with relationships and don't get attached to people but I still end up getting hurt, whether I physically  hurt myself or psychologically. 

It was my birthday dinner, and though I didn't invite any friends due to lack of them to invite, they haven't even remembered despite Facebook reminders. 

No one wants to be alone. Even that girl that gets left out and pretends she doesn't care, because really the pain of being rejected by all other then relations because they have no choice. I could describe I feel like a clown in the middle of the Parliament House or a shag on a rock.  I could feel that way but my brain is making me feel numb, which in turn is worse.

I have no further comment that won't already upset me further then suicidally needed. 

 To overdose or not overdose? That seems to be the question.

Do I want to die? Ultimately no, but deep down yes. Is it better in the long run? Yes, is it beneficial? No will people that really do care be hurt? Yes. Will you lose the one reason on this earth you think you serve? To honour your mother and father ? Yes so swallow pills but enough that you will survive, heck you have made it this far. See how long you can type.

It is petty to think I care about friendships and things I dare not admit to or is it that I care or think I should care? Or that I see other people with more other people? Why am I so different? And I know everyone is different but I have never been normal! Not mundane, there is always something what some would say is quirky or weird to just plain fucked up. I apologise for my language but my standard of not trusting people never ceases to lift and never will.

I just don't understand. 

I am told I over think things, well if I wasn't so darn intelligent I wouldn't. If I was ditzy and fatter everyone would like me but no I'm sarcastic with a distorted self image 

I need to stop. Again my apologies of this misleading preach of emptiness. 

 

Ripping open a wound? Cutting a new one is better.

I was told today about analogy of putting a bandaid over a wound and then ripping it off and letting it bleed and so on and so fourth basically about not letting things bottle up. Another example. If a glass is half full and you keep filling it up, eventually it has to over flow.
So what are our wounds?
Lacerations or gun shot wounds? What about heart break or despair? Anxiety an fear. The confusion of emotions often leads to more emotions causing more pain and more emotions of more thoughts and what have you. The list just goes on. and on. and on.

You think you have a partner. Your innocent sweet 16. And that one person you let in takes something so precious and meaningful to your well-being that you crumble at their feet. You can't look back because sooner or later its all happening out of your control you don't even realize the extent of the wounds being made. Your religious beliefs shut down. Your self esteem lost. Your virginity stolen. Your feelings numbed. Your phone thrown against the wall. Your location unknown. Your face in a constant gaze. You can't even watch a movie without being touched inappropriately. What about your thoughts mocked? The disgusting tongue from a mouth that doesn't brush their teeth forced inside you mouth, your body invading your soul. All the wounds in the world I could describe were felt within myself until suicide is my only option short of starving myself and cutting. Cutting always makes better wounds. Wounds you can control. Wounds that can heal, sure there is a scar but thats better to show then your face which constantly reminds you of grief. every look in the mirror is as painful as pins in your eyes.

All I have is describe how I feel and the past in what best few words I could. Nothing can explain what abuse is all about. I only hope you don't recognize what I have written. I have to stop myself from writing more because I need to take my medication and go to bed to wake for another day of therapy.
I never have good dreams. I need to stop.
One last thing.
It was a year ago I ripped open my wound. Stitches to ovedoses and hospital and mental institution stays. Medication, scars and just when I think i'm starting to get better it all comes crashing down. Here I was thinking hey I'm 20 in 7 days. I lived a year longer then I thought I would and then I was asked an unexpected question about my ex and now it has me thinking and I can feel it all flooding back, like a mite burrowing up my skin. At the end of the day, you can't hide who or what you are. You cannot change. You can go either direction and you can always kill yourself tomorrow.

After all this My Chemical Romance always Get me through. Even though they have broken up, when I listen to "Light behind your eyes" I feel as if they are singing to me and still care and are there for me when I need them. Music - What you can always believe in, where you will always find hope <3

My train of though is being put to bed now.
Until we meet another day. Peace.

Persuading prejudice.

It's funny the way depression affects us all differently. For me, I lost music. Something I loved became something I was afraid of. Thanks to that fear I gave it all up. My "tickling the ivory" as my Gramps called it came to a unique halt. I say unique as every key I played caused pain until I just couldn't do it anymore.

This last few weeks I have worked in a High care facility. Seen people once quick and able become incontinent and lose their mind. Their keen thoughts, good intentions, lives lost in time. Some of them have no family for hours away, many of which do not even bother to call. dribbling and confused they lay in their rooms from hours to days to years until death finally sets them free; from who they were who they still are but what they will never feel again. There is no reason to death unless their is a Heaven; I chose to believe in Heaven which would make all that worth it. To be united with the lost, forgiven for the unforgivable and remembered for what your worth.

Labour that. Liberal this. These old people can't even enjoy their mundane breakfast in the morning. Maybe a luke warm cuppa ? (because hot on someone who was a bit shaky would burn themselves) Not to mention constant hospital food and the tainted taste of plastic throughout EVERYTHING. Noticing everyone has visitors but you. Not recognising your family, your own children. Do you have children? Who are you? What are those pictures above you? Until you get so upset over everything you see that it all gets taken away and you are left with not a bare but what feels naked room. At least you are warm? You rest in crisp sheets. With no measure of time eventually it will all fade away.

 

8 days before the unconditional superficial hour.

Only eight days until I turn the big  2 0. Honestly it doesn't excite me in the slightest. It is just like any other day in the year. Yet when it is someone elses birthday I try hard to help them think its the one day of the year about them and make it special. Is it I don't deserve a birthday or is it a reminder I have no friends but only family to celebrate with. Family Is better then what some people have and last year I confessing to my aunt how I felt about the upcoming day she said well it can just be a nice day for the family to be together, and I couldn't agree more. Only lately I believe because of my intense in patient therapy am I starting to control my borderline personality. Turning negatives into positives and it is giving me hope. Something I have not had in years. I may not have friends but I also think things are easier without friends. If I really wanted some I could find some so really I only have myself to blame. 

I am so blessed to have my family. They are a group of fantastic beings and I'm so proud to be apart of it. My parents are my idols. I can't express the words of gratitude, honour and love I have for them. It may not be how I feel because I get confused of tying emotions to named, it may not be how I think I should feel or how I show how I feel but it is what I think. And that's the truth.

I don't believe in lucky, but I am lucky, very lucky. My parents are the best people in the world. Both intelligent loving and whole. We all have our demons and I have now learnt to crept that. Accepting doesn't mean I agree but I acknowledge this. 

I have allergies. And they have left my face this last week in hives and rashes. It hurts and looks very sore. I consider myself fortunate. Pole still have worse conditions that won't resolve themselves.mi know mine will heal but others with conditions such as psoriasis or eczema will continue to suffer greatly. 

My working with the elderly this last two weeks has also opened my eyes to a whole new world but I will leave that open for another blog. If you do know someone elderly, family or not I would encourage you to go see them. You may think its awkward and uncomfortable but an old person is just happy to have someone sit next to them, to listen to them or better yet play an instrument. If you feel awkward the old person does not because they have so many thoughts going on in their heads from possibly memories or motives that they don't even realise you have stopped talking. That or they didn't hear you! Old people have a sense of humour to. 

Why? When? Die?

Why me? Why now? Why anything at all?

Question after question we ask ourselves; do really ever find answers? Or just quick solutions that will mask the wound for now. The brain is constantly comprehending. 

People ask how can there be a god when terrible things happen? Because there would be no such thing as good things if we didn't have a comparison to bad. Comprehend that. 

I don't man to force my beliefs on anyone but I love sharing the word of God and I try and let his love shine through me. 

Why regret? Such as tattoos. At the time seemed a good idea but we are constantly changing so what was good is not so anymore. Comprehend that. 

The world is such a titanic ferocious yet delicate balance. We are all common. We are all people. And eventually we all die.