Dead Scale

So last night I stepped on my scale: 130.2!  I'm getting better :D  Losing weight!  Yes!!

I wake up this morning and remember the numbers: 130.2  Closer to my goal.  Closer to perfect.  Rubbing my eyes I shuffle to the bathroom.  I'm not fully awake but I need to know.  Tap the edge of the scale and wait for it to wake from it's own slumber.  ... Nothing ...  Tap it again.  ... Still nothing ...  Panic begins to set in.  Someone must have taken the battery.  They don't want me to weigh myself anymore!  Sabotage!!  Quick, grab the scale and flip it over.  The battery flings itself to the floor.  Okay..it just came undone.  Stuff it back in, close the backing, and set it on the floor again.  Tap the edge.  ... Nothing ...  Crap, the battery is dead...  No weighing myself this morning.  Am I still 130.2?  Doubtful...  I could have gained at least 2lbs over night.  Guess I'll never know...  Guess this is just a peak into what the rest of the day will hold.

I don't understand societal views of eating disorders...  I don't think I ever will.  Think of all the celebrities that have received so much negative attention and nasty rumors because it is discovered they have an eating disorder.  And if society feels that way about celebrities...just think of how they feel about everyone else.  Having an eating disorder is not a choice!  I did not wake up one morning and decide "I'm bored...you know what would be fun?  I'm gonna hate my body, let the mirror dictate my life, work out until I feel like I'm gonna fall over, starve myself to the point where standing up makes me feel like I'm going to pass out..  Yea, that's how I'm gonna spend my time."  

Absolutely not!  I cannot tell you how this started, or even why or when.  All I know is that I struggle with it every single day of my life.  I wake up wondering who will win today: me or the anorexia.  I go to sleep knowing I either won or lost.  Knowing that tomorrow I will wake up and fight the battle all over again.

I was thinking about this today for some reason.  I was looking at a picture of a celebrity who had an eating disorder and remembering how much drama surrounded it.  No one felt sorry or concerned really.  It was all negative...like she had done this to herself.  And it made me realize why I could never confide in someone that I have an eating disorder.  Because of the negative attention it gains...  And that's just not right...

Whatever it Takes

I have not weighed myself in two days and it's driving me insane!!  But I'm in Minnesota at my Aunt/Grandparent's house and I have no idea where to find a scale...  On Saturday I'll be home and there will be a scale.  But then Sunday I will have my scale back and all will be well :D  I can't wait.

I just want to lose.  I keep going back and forth between wanting recovery and wanting to be thin again.  And right now I just want to be thin.  My cousin, 17 year old boy, is about 6'0" and weighs 135lbs.  I am 5'8" and fluctuate between 130 and 133.  Not okay with me.  I need to lose a lot more than I thought.  I was aiming for 125 but I just need to get to 120.  Ideally I'd love to be 115 but we'll see.  I just need to get there!  Somehow.  Whatever it takes.

Thanksgiving Break

*Sigh*

I'm home for Thanksgiving break for the next 5 days.  Well, home for tonight then off to Minnesota till Saturday, and back home Saturday evening.  Then it's back to school Sunday.  What a welcome home it's been.  I was eating dinner with my mom.  She picked us up some Chicken Kitchen.  I was eating my chicken and brown rice when she looks at me and says "You know that's more rice than a person should eat in one sitting"  I looked up and just stared.  She knows what I've been through.  Granted she doesn't know I'm still struggling with it but still!  I said "but it tastes good"...I was utterly shocked and didn't know what else to say.  To which she responded "You do you know what a serving size of rice is, right?"  So I put my fork down and stopped eating.  ...  For real??  Ughhh....  Just when I thought I was on the right track to being "normal."  Well f*** that.  Clearly my mother thinks I eat too much.

I texted Ellen about it.  She's been a huge support system for me.  Which I feel bad about...  I hate what it's doing to her.  I can tell it makes her upset.  And I'm scared to death that it's triggering something in her.  I have absolutely no idea...  And she doesn't talk to me about anything so I have no way of figuring it out.  I just want to know what's going through her head.  I talked to her about that the other day.  I asked her if she ever thought it was inconvenient timing or wished she didn't have to deal with it.  She was incredibly honest which I am very grateful for.  Nothing negative.  She said maybe it was bad timing for Cassie during Tech weekend (the weekend things were really bad for me, cutting and suicidal thoughts).  Not gonna lie that hurt a bit.  I know she didn't mean it in a negative way.  But...I don't know.  It's pretty inconvenient for me as well seeing as I was thinking of ending my life.  But I understand what she meant and in no way was it meant in a negative "you're being selfish" kind of way.

I tried confiding in her last night that I was scared to go home.  I'm scared because she's not here to hold me when I'm crying or stop me from cutting.  I know I'm a big girl and should be able to get through all of this on my own, and I'm trying.  But I'm still nervous.  She wasn't talkative though...  I'm not sure why.  Maybe she's going through something that she won't tell me about.  Maybe she's sick of hearing me talk about these things.  Maybe she just didn't know what to say.  Or maybe it's too painful for her.  I have no idea..  I just wish she would confide me!  I'm throwing everything at her.  Literally my whole life, regardless of how difficult it is for me to say the words.  I tell her everything.  I just want a piece of that in return....  Maybe that's too much to ask?

Before I end this post I want to share something Ellen sent me today.  She sent a picture text and wrote "Love ya beautiful big!!! :)"  The picture said:
"This scale can only give you a numerical reflection of your relationship with gravity.  That's it.  It cannot measure beauty, talent, purpose, life force, possibility, strength, or love.  Be more, not less!"

Never Alone

Practically every night since Friday (the night I cut myself) I have not slept alone.  That night Ellen came over, the next night was the ibuprofin night and Ellen and Cassie came over.  Then Sunday night Ellen and Cassie were in my apartment working on homework and, though they didn't stay over, they didn't leave until 4:00am and I went to sleep at 2:00am.  And that's the last night I've slept alone, Ellen and Cassie have been staying with me.  And now it's Friday again.

I love having them spend the night!  But...I feel awful.  Because I know why they're doing it.  They never spent the night this much before.  Although it was often, it wasn't this often.  I know it's just because they are scared I will cut or kill myself.  And it makes me feel terrible.  Because I don't want them to stay for that reason.  I don't want to interrupt their lives.  Last night they tried sleeping in jeans and a dress which was really frustrating.  I feel like such a burden now.  They keep assuring me I'm not a burden and I'm not interrupting their lives and they want to be with me but...I don't completely believe it.

I really am trying desperately to accept the help and lean on them to get through this.  But it's hard when I feel like I'm not important enough...

Today one of my roommates told me I look like I've lost weight.  Which was an amazing compliment!! But also not true.  I fluctuate between 129 and 131 depending on the day.  Then she proceeded to tell me I was thinner freshman year and whatnot.  Which is absolutely true!  But she didn't have to remind me...  I just want to lose this gross fat.  A very difficult thing to do when people are constantly shoving food in my face.  Yes yes.  I should appreciate that they care about me.  And I do!  But that doesn't mean I accept the fact I have this fat clinging to me...

Sometimes I wonder how much sertraline it would take to kill me.  Not that I want to kill myself really. Is it weird that I just want to be in a hospital where they control things for me?  Does that mean I'm doing this for attention?  No!  But that terrifies me.  That people think all of this is some ruse to get people to feel sorry for me.  But if that were true, wouldn't I make a bigger deal out of it and tell more people?  My mom asked if I was doing this for attention when I first told her...  And now I can't get that out of my head.  So sometimes I believe it myself.  That I'm being dumb and an attention whore.  But I know deep down that isn't why I do anything.

Littles to the Resuce

The only reason I'm writing now is to say I'm alive.  I started popping ibuprofine after my last post.  I made it to 8 before Ellen came over.  She brought Cassie, my other little, with her.  The got to my apartment and sat with me in my room for about a minute.  I could tell Ellen had been crying...  She was in her room and we were texting and I was telling her I was upset.  And I was talking to her about how things were just pointless and I didn't know what to do and she said, "Big should I come over?"  I told her she didn't have to.  I felt bad making her come over...  And she insisted on coming over anyway.  So she texted me saying "Don't do anything before I get there"  No response.  She texted again "Pleeeeaasseee"  So I said I wasn't cutting and that I wasn't doing anything right then.  And she asked what I had done before and I told her I took 8 ibuprofin tablets.  So that's why she was crying... because of me...  I felt awful!

Once they were inside Ellen told me I needed to go to the bathroom and force myself to throw it up.  Which I tried, I really did.  But nothing came up.  Cassie was in the bathroom briefly.  But most of the time she spent in my room.  I'm pretty sure she didn't cry at all either.  Though that's just the way she handles things.  I know it's not because she doesn't care, cause I know she cares a lot.  Cassie called someone, though I'm not sure who.  But I think she was calling to see if I needed to be taken to a hospital.  Well 8 pills aren't going to do anything.  So of course I didn't need to go.  So I gave up trying to throw up.

I'm sure I was a site to see...  Me sitting by the toilet with my fingers down my throat, Ellen rubbing my back.  And then I just started crying.  Sobbing actually.  And Ellen wrapped her arms around my waist and cried with me.  It was the most touching experience.  I felt awful that I was putting her through this...  She just held me like she didn't want to lose me.  How could I be so selfish?

The whole night consisted of spurts of silence, spurts of small chatter, and spurts of Ellen holding me while we both cried.  It was nice to have them there....  I desperately needed them.  They spent the night which was nice as well.

I apologized to them both.  Which they both said was unnecessary.  But I feel awful...  It's not fair to them for me to put them through this.  They shouldn't have to deal with it.  These are my issues and I need to learn to cope with them.  Ellen keeps telling me she wants to be there for me and I don't have to go through this alone.  Today I found a quote which I shared with Ellen that describes exactly what she was telling me:
"If you need me, call me.  I don't care if I'm sleeping, if I'm having my own problems, or if I'm angry at you.  If you need me and if you need to talk to me, I'll always be there for you.  No matter how big or small your problem is, I'll be there."

I just want to end my life.  Take a bottle of pills and swallow them all.  Then wait for them to hit and kill me.  Last night I had the same thought, but wanted to slit my wrists.  Which I did but not deep enough to do much damage.  Just blood.

But I'm sitting here wondering what would happen if I took the rest of my sertraline pills tonight...  Or took all 50 tablets of ibuprofen.  It could work...  No one is here.  No one can stop me.  No one but myself.  So here's the question: do I have the guts?