Monday, 27 August 2018
So here we are . I’ve come out the other side of the relapse pro recovery. Talk about an anorexic bipolar moment but fuck I don’t care what I weigh and why should i? I’m going to eat intuitively when I’m hungry and what I want. Ain’t no banana bread going to hold me back. And now I’ve run out of pantoprazole and forgot to get a script for it my stomach acid is intense but I feel like I’m actually digesting better? If but I’m not going to let this illness be the death of me again. What a statement haha. I’ve realised I love chocolate so I’m going to eat chocolate; simple. I can’t work and study without fueling my body it’s stupid and setting me up to fail. I see that now and I put my job and nursing career first.
I’m also fighting a terrible cold! It’s been on and off for weeks I hate this is rsyher just have it and recover not take a tablet or syrup constantly. I take so many vitamins like literally must be doing something right!
Intensive day at uni tomorrow doing easy peasy stuff. Smash it no doubt. Looking forward to placement in September. Time to shine. / Make it or break it. I realise I am a good person and my ideals are good. I’m proud of who I am becoming. Judy hope I’ll make a good Mum one day. If I ever get married like I just don’t see it on the cards for me I see a career and cats. Which is fine but I wanna be knocked up at some point lol I need to study more but my energy is 0. My care factor is 0 and I’m pretty sure I failed that test today because the time limit scared me and I didn’t bother finding the right diagrams.
I think I need to up my olanzapine cos every emotion I think I feel I just think I need to cut myself. Like all I wanna do is cut. It’s so distracting but I can’t get stitches cos I refuse to be that embarrassed and Let my emotions show. Like I cut my ribs now but what do I do come summer in a bikini? It just seems I might as well cut my wrists and have people find out. I’ve got it mapped out where to cut and oh when I do I’ll feel so accomplished and content. And probably nothing at all. Cutting is such an unhelpful behaviour but all I’m good at. What’s one more scar? People already stare. I like looking after wounds. Maybe I like something being wrong with me. Am I that fucked up? Am I attention seeking? I don’t know what I am but this is the only place I display my thoughts. I need to sleep but I need to cut but it’s never deep enough and then I can’t stop. No more scars. They never fade. Red and ugly. I’m such a fool. This is classic BPD. Classic borderline stuff. And there’s nothing to fix that you can only manage it so maybe I should take my medication but is therapy a waste of time? Like depression is s part of BPD that’s not going to change. I’m not going to change.