From whence we came…tattered and torn, but nary forlorn!
I found the first ‘meaningful’ livejournal post. Just before the move out west. When the heck was that? I’m too young to forget so much. Right? Bah, age doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with it. All those prescribed anti-this, anti-that may have given my poor brain a run for its money. Ah well… pros and cons. Currently heading towards a state of ‘unmedicatedness’ - it will have been over a decade since having been ‘clean’. I barely remember any other way.
I’ve changed a bit. I think(!) Not drastically, but obviously one snapshot isn’t going to give me the whole or rather a wholer picture. Plenty of time (barring anything freakish) to contemplate on how the nature of my self-expression has or has not changed.
Here it is, from Friday, March 13, 2003 at 4:48pm. Wow, so close yet so far away on almost being ‘friday the 13th’ on the 13th. I was apparently apathetic. I was at work and it was nearing the end of the day, so not a surprise:
I haven’t written in this thing since March 6th. That’s like 12 days ago. My brain is fried. Last night I ran out of my wonderful benzo so I tried taking some valerian root to help me sleep and keep anxiety down for today - stupid idea. It made me impossibly groggy today. My body’s starting to really protest about the 90 lbs I’ve gained back [since bernstein SHAM/SCAM/DANGER WILL ROBINSON, but 120 pounds in 10 months… no wonder I started smoking!
I’m still in a bit of a ‘metabolic death’ state, but haven’t developed anything crazy, and it’s finally seeming to start getting better. It takes so much for me to ‘commit’ to something positive *eye roll* Er, and to not bracket things to infinity, either.].
I think I’m going to try that ‘curves for women’ thing - there seems to be one right around the corner from the new place. It’s just some 30-min workout thingie that’s only for women and one of the ladies at work here is doing it (though I don’t really know why - she’s a frigging stick [as I understand the members are frequently if not normally severely overweight. I could very well be mistaken though - only one way to find out!]) Oh wait, I forgot - she’s doing it because one of her good friends is really overweight and she’s going to be supportive. That’s coo’.
I’m pretty sure work would pay for it, because they paid for part of bernstein and said they’d pay for weight watchers. Why won’t they pay for a lobotomy? I go from really caring to not caring at all. Being this overweight really doesn’t help my self-esteem - BUT being thin didn’t help it either. For the most part, I *loathed* when people ‘noticed’ me and when I felt like shit, it didn’t matter what weight I was at. It’s more a matter of ‘I hate myself regardless of what I look like’ and if someone noticed me when I was thin and was convinced that I wasn’t bad-looking, it just made me feel like an object or some kind of slut and it would feed the hatred. Every other sentence I resist typing in the names that I’m calling myself constantly. Not-so-nice names.
The psych [which one was it? hmm…] thinks I’m using the weight as a shield against others. It’s pushing me further away from myself and other people. Because there doesn’t seem to be a limit to my self-loathing. I can always find ways to let myself know I suck even more. I know I eat compulsively - I eat when I’m nervous, I eat when I’m bored, I eat when I’m depressed, I eat - well, I can find an ‘excuse’ for eating when I feel ANYTHING. And sometimes when I’m feeling nothing. Heh. I feel like I either have to think about my weight every second of the day, or ignore it completely. It’s just part of the mesh of the belief that I’m evil (yes, I know it’s irrational, but it’s there) and I don’t think I’ve ever hated anything so much as I hate myself. Boo hoo for me. I usually just ignore everything, suppress it - that’s where the eventual mass of confusion and rage eventually comes from. I don’t think I ‘act out’ with my anger as much as I ‘act in’. I’m an ‘acting-in’ kind of borderline. The anger and frustration turn into self-hatred and that feeds the depression.
My psych cancelled with me last week and hasn’t called back to reschedule [AHA! That psych!]. I’m not freaking or anything, it’s just annoying. God I’m so tired. Hey, imagine that - it’s 4:58. I think I’ll toddle off since there’s barely anyone here at work.
Long live self-indulgent drivel! I will learn to do it well! ‘Cuz I think it might be more helpful for me to learn to get anything out rather than keep it all in. I -think-. Not sure. It could just end up another polar freak-out (self-descriptive expression du jour) and I’ll become a livejournal whore, give up my job, move in with a parent and do nothing but drivel all day long.
Yikes. :> I don’t think I’ll do that. That sounds even ’suckier-assed’ than where I am now.
***
Well. I’m definitely in a better place today, even though you really can’t tell sometimes ![]()




March 27th, 2007 at 12:46 am
If anyone knows off-hand to whom/where do I attrib. dryercat, aka “Through the Ringer” [my ‘title’] (heheheh), please drop me a line here.
Thank you kindly!
~RayGun