Stuck

You’re stuck in the moment
When you thought you were rolling
But you can’t move on
You feel like you’re able
To live past the moment
You can’t move on

I’m currently debating whether I should continue my therapy because I’m beginning to feel like there’s no point in spending so much money for it at the moment. I’m stuck. Totally. I know it, my disorders know it, my recovery knows it, my counselor knows it. And the worst part? I know exactly what’s going on, and yet I’m unable to change the situation despite being the only one who can.
As usual, the problem is my overwhelming fear of leaving my comfort zone and changing something- anything. Being constantly afraid of making things worse doesn’t make recovery a very pleasant process and it looks like I’ve reached a point where I can’t go further without being taken down by my fear.
The situation is pretty much beyond remedy: I’m in the unidentifiable zone between real recovery and a real relapse where I adapt to sick behaviors on a daily basis, but realize that they’re sick and keep them under control and only act them out in a certain way without letting things slip and legitimately harming me or someone else. I’m not sick, but I’m not healthy either.
I eat, but I feel extremely guilty, I bake, but without sugar, I cook, but without oil, I eat candy, but only dark chocolate and DIY stuff (my counselor made me eat normal vegan cookies from the store yesterday and it was awful), I tell people that I’m not perfectly fine, but not how much everything stresses me, I don’t harm my body in any way, but I hate it with all of my heart.
Get my point?
I always manage to have things under control to be able to keep going without having someone notice or getting hurt in the process, but I’m not happy with the way things are.
I don’t even know what I want anymore. Sure, the long-term aims in my life are clear, but what do I want to reach with what I’m doing here and now knowing that it’s not what I actually want or need? And, more importantly, how am I planning to carry on in the future? Will I continue to live like this?
The one and only person who can change something about this is me, that’s something I realized over the years.
But I refuse to because the idea of letting go of the patterns I’ve been holding on to for such an incredibly long time frightens me. When saying that I don’t remember being satisfied and happy with my achievements and appearance, I’m not exaggerating. The thought of not being good enough has manifested so deeply that I’ve adapted to the self-proclaimed ‘fact’ that there is no way to ever change something about it, and distancing myself from this concept would turn everything upside down. Over the years, you unfortunately start to identify yourself with your disordered thoughts. Who and what am I without them? Can I risk pushing them away? Will I be left with nothing? Will I be nothing? Lose control, become invisible, gain weight, fail everything?
I don’t know. And as unrealistically as all of my fears are, they’re there and because they won’t go away, I won’t change. I’ve settled in my own little hell and as crazy as it sounds, it’s gotten quite comfortable with time because I’ve gotten so used to it.
Do I enjoy living like this?
Hell no.
Am I willing to change?
Unfortunately, no.
Because there is nothing scarier than the unknown.
So I’m stuck here, unknowing what to do with myself and my life, trying to make it through without losing myself in this chaos I’ve created. I can’t even tell anyone about this because it’s just beyond ridiculous and stupid. I could choose happiness and yet I choose to suffer because I’m a scaredy-cat. My obsession with a non-existent perfection has made me end up here, and I don’t even know where here is.
Am I giving up? Is that what I’m doing? I don’t think so. I mean, I am keeping my shit together, aren’t I? Hell, I just want to get away from everything here if I’m honest.

Take me away
Let’s get out of this town
Run, baby, run
We’re unstoppable now

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What if I was good enough?

My counselor wanted me to answer this question, so I decided to write about it because it’s probably one of the hardest questions I ever had to answer.
To be honest, I never even thought about it.
Being good enough was never even an option for me. Insecurities have been following me for as long as I can remember and while I’ve focused on how to get and be better to feel good enough for many years now, I never let the thought about what would be if it happened sink in. It was too far away, too unrealistic, too pretty to ever become a part of my world.

Why don’t I just accept myself the way I am? Why don’t I just stop destroying myself by thinking that there is something wrong with me when there really isn’t?
The answer is as easy as it is complicated- I’m scared. I’m scared of what might happen. They say “even hell can get comfy once you’ve settled in” and I never realized how true that is until a very short time ago.
I could live my life in heaven, but I’ve decided to create my own hell and even though I’m harming myself and making everything much more complicated than it should be, there’s something in my head that won’t let me change anything about it because I’ve gotten so used to it that I’m terrified of change.

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Do I want to get better? Do I want to recover? Of course I do! But what normal people don’t understand is that distancing yourself from your mental illness can also be scary. It’s not just living with it what’s hard. Abandoning it is too. As much as it hurts, this voice in my head gives me a certain kind of sick comfort because I know it’s always there and I can always rely on it. Does that make sense? In a twisted way, yes. We’re all creatures of habit and although it’s certainly possible to teach an old dog new tricks, it’s exhausting and in need of so much effort and time that nobody wants to do it.
I do want to get out of this endless circle of destruction that consists of making myself feel like crap for stupid reasons, punishing myself for it and feeling like crap again, but I also don’t want to leave my comfort zone and I know that I can’t have both things at the same time. I know how to choose between health and sickness today, but I (sometimes even intentionally) still choose wrong on a regular basis because it gives me a piece in mind that I know won’t last, but creates the illusion that I’m okay for a little while.

I mean, let’s face it: We all live by certain rules. Most of us might not even recognize them, but they’re down there, buried deep in our subconscious, controlling our every move in our lives. Healthy people live by healthy rules, and sick people… Well, we live by rather fucked up rules. We form them throughout our lives due to experiences, surroundings, success, disappointment and emotions. I don’t have a clue why the human mind believes it needs them, but somehow it does. These are mine:

1. Don’t let people get close

That’s probably my most essential rule and perfectly pictures the two-sided sword called my mind:
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Why? When you let people get close, you give them the chance to hurt you. You make yourself vulnerable. And yeah, I know that’s a part of life, but whenever I gave people this opportunity, it ended terrible for me. Not letting anyone get to me means protecting myself from the pain they might inflict. That actually even makes sense, but the thing is: nobody wants to be alone forever. And if you don’t let anyone near you, you ultimately end up utterly alone. You’ll have relationships, but only shallow ones, and your friendships will never be more than simple acquaintances. You will never be able to experience a deep connection if you don’t trust anyone. And not letting someone get close means not trusting them. In the end, this rule only makes me hurt myself, and that’s not the goal I have in mind.

2. Don’t show weakness

And yet again there comes the vulnerability: if you show weakness, you make yourself vulnerable once more. When people see your weaknesses, they can use them to hurt you, and because I’ve experienced that before hundreds of times, my head has prohibited admitting it. Yet again, it makes sense at some point because it protects me, but weaknesses are human and every single one of us has them, whether we admit or deny them. They’re a part of us and even though they might hurt, they’re essential because they remind us that nobody is perfect, even if it looks like they are.
We need them. They make us feel alive because they make us realize what’s important. We need fears to conquer them and grow with them. But I have too many of them and I’m not telling anyone.

3. You’re never enough

This is where we come back to the topic. It’s probably my worst rule because it makes it impossible to love or even accept myself. This rule makes me feel like there’s always something missing. No matter what, I’ll never be good, smart, thin or beautiful enough. Never.

Could I change these rules? I think so. Somehow.
But I can’t.
I’m too scared.
I’ve gotten used to living this way and giving it up might be the healthiest thing to do, but it scares the shit out of me. The way I treat myself is horrible, but I’ve gotten used to it. At some point, you don’t even care that you’re destroying yourself anymore. You don’t know anything else. Giving up on habits is scary, no matter how unhealthy they are.

So, to respond the original question, what would happen?
Would I live the life I really want to live? Get the things I always wanted? Make my dreams come true? Love myself?
Everything would change, that’s for sure, and I don’t even think I’d still be the same person because my entire self centers around the problem with never being enough and not knowing who I am and want to be. A part of me wants to be that person, but another is way too scared to even think of it because there are way too many horror scenarios in my head that picture what might (very unlikely) happen if I stopped beating myself up for who I am: That I would lose control and not try anymore at all. That I wouldn’t fight for anything and turn into a lazy piece of shit. A fat, disgusting waste of space.
Yeah, I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help but feel like this. So many things terrify me.

Fear is only in our minds, but it’s taking over all the time

On the edge

Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m always one step from crumbling and it only takes one tiny thing to push me that last bit off the edge. One moment I’m fine, the next one I’m losing my mind. And the worst part is that nobody knows or will know about it. I’m tired of always needing to be fine, but I can’t change anything about it. I love my son more than words could describe it, but there are certain awful things about motherhood nobody ever tells you about and the worst one is that you always need to function. And when I say always, I mean it. When you have a baby, you can’t even take a minute off because as soon as you sit down, there’s the possibility that your child might start crying. You always need to be in control, calm, smiling, careful. Everyone believes I’m doing great, and on the outside, I really am, taking care of everything, getting all of my work done, never forgetting anything- but on the inside, things are different.

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I’m constantly torn apart between happiness and desperation- literally. It’s like there are those two sides in my head and I never know which one will win because while one tells me how great I’m doing and sees everything positive, the other one finds a thousand reasons to break down the next second. My mood is really fragile and even though I manage to cover it up with my typical slightly bitchy attitude mixed with casual kindness (yes, it works) and keeping myself busy all day, I’m praying in my head to be able to keep my goddamn shit together and not lose it again. It’s incredibly exhausting and making me feel really anxious. There’s nothing I can do about it, though. I need to figure out a way a deal with it despite how much it pisses me off on a regular basis. Sometimes I think I’ve got a pro’s and con’s list in my head that refreshes every minute to keep me up to date. Right now it looks like this:

+ I: managed an entire week with my son and my dogs in the house without my mom or sis around really well; work out every morning; am an awesome mom to my son; will put him in daycare the upcoming week to start studying again; am really strong and apparently not heartbroken and make my way through everything without falling apart; am holding on and have great plans for my future

– I: am fragile; am having flashbacks from the past; had to cancel my vacation because I couldn’t take it; still need to face the walking problem named my ex because he’s my son’s dad and I can’t just cut him out of my life like I’d love to; still suffer from relapses; don’t eat like normal people do anymore again; can’t talk to anyone about everything; usually don’t know what’s going on with me and whether I’ll go to bed happy or crying tonight; struggle with my self-identify* and body image very hard again

*About the self-identity-problem: Well, when my son was born a little more than nine months ago, I decided to start to dress like a mom (you know, the whole thing with blue jeans, decent jewelry, heels and blouses like classy moms do it) and strongly distanced myself from the stuff I used to like (smoking, drinking, partying, concerts) and instead act like a role model. Also, I stopped admitting when I feel bad because that’s something parents unfortunately are not supposed to do. Parents need to function and not feel, unfortunately. I still listen to the same kind of music with my earbuds and still like the same things, but I don’t really show it anymore. I only wear my band shirts and batman stuff when I’m home or walking my dogs, wear normal makeup and have a bright room with blue and photos and stuff now.

And I’m not sure if that was the right choice. Sure, if I made the choice again, I’d still never actually smoke or drink as a mom during the day and still only attend parties or concerts on special occasions with a babysitter at home, but the whole appearance thing seems to not be a smart thing now that I live with it. To be honest, wearing that stuff makes me feel really uncomfortable. Sure, it’s all really pretty (I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise), but it’s not me, you know? It doesn’t feel right.

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Okay, so I feel like I kind of lost my train of thought. Where I was actually going is that I’m sure if this is who I really am and want to be anymore. Do I want to be this perfect inspirational ideal showpiece teen mom? Yes, I want to keep being respected and admired for how well I’m handling everything because I am, but do I want to be this perfect fake? Do I want to pretend that I’m always fine and never struggling, always wearing that smile and confidence I’ve never truly had? Do I want to wear nude lipstick and red blouses and hide my studded leather jackets? Do I want to keep all of my feelings and fears to myself and my counselor?

I honestly don’t know what I’m doing here anymore. I don’t feel real anymore, you know? It’s like I’m fine and horrible at the exact same time, all the time.

Who the hell is this person in the mirror? When did I become her? Is this how it’s supposed to be? Am I happy this way? Because, honestly, I don’t know. I don’t even know if this is a dream or a nightmare. I don’t fucking know.

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You wouldn’t understand, so what’s the use?

Depression sucks. Yeah, I know that’s nothing new. But the worst thing about depression is not the disease itself but that it always comes back. I felt so good for so many months. For the first time, I could honestly answer “I’m fine” when people asked me how I was feeling. But then it happened. I went back to school and fell apart all over again. I don’t want any fucking pity, but it’s just not fair, you know? You fight for years and then you think it’s finally over and you finally get to be happy and then… it’s all gone. And you feel like dying again. There’s this pain inside of me and it won’t go away, regardless of what I do. I try so hard, but it won’t change anything.

I had everything. And lost it all.

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I wish I could just give up. Stop trying. Stop fighting. I feel like shit and all I can do is feel it. I wake up every morning and I get up and get through the day and I’m scared I might collapse the next second because I don’t think I can make it through. And somehow I do because I keep my shit together and don’t show how I feel. Sure, I could tell about my feelings. But nobody would understand, so what’s the use? Depression is so hard to understand because it’s invisible. The other people around you don’t have any proof that you’re actually sick even though you are. And you could tell them about it. I did. But the only reactions I got were pity, dumb questions or how I could even be depressed because my life is s great now. Yeah, thanks, I’m aware of that. I know my life is great. I have almost everything I wanted and I love my family and especially my son more than anything, but I’m still not happy.

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People tell me we just need to BE happy because we’re the ones to choose how we want to feel, but they seem to forget that we’re not happy because we didn’t choose to be but because we’re sick. We all want to be happy, but we somehow can’t. It’s all in my head, I know, but that doesn’t make it any less real. God, I want to be happy more than anything (I mean, who likes feeling like shit?), but all I feel is this hopelessness. I still keep going because of my son, but if he wasn’t here, I’d give up and let the shit in my head take over. I’d let myself drown in it because it’s so much easier and fighting obviously won’t get me anywhere either. I’m not doing this for myself anymore because it looks like I can’t be saved. I know that the only one who can save me is me, but I do everything I can and I still don’t feel better. I use skills, do things that make me happy, try to focus on better stuff, distract myself, spend all of my time with my son , mom and sister and I don’t feel any better. I’m not suicidal or feel like harming myself anymore (the last time was almost two years ago), but I feel like drowning and there’s no way to learn how to swim. Why is there such a thing called depression? Why am I suffering from this disorder? I know it all started with my eating disorder which I developed because my dad has always made me feel like I’ll never be good enough (and even though he’s gone, I still can’t get that pattern out of my head), but WHY? I know people who had to go through much worse stuff and they don’t have any disorders. Why do I have it? And why can’t I recover? My counselor keeps telling me these things take time, but it’s been more than half a decade and I’m tired and sick of it. There is nothing more exhausting, nothing harder than fighting your thoughts. Since the relapse started, I’ve been so extremely tired that I could basically sleep anywhere if I let myself. ‘Normal’ people don’t know what it’s like to fight your own mind 24/7. To feel like you’re losing yourself, to feel trapped in your emptiness.

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To stand in front of the mirror and hate every single inch of yourself and you want to fall on your knees and cry until your throat is sore, but you know that would only make things worse, so you don’t. Instead, you breathe deeply and tell yourself not to let it take over. To stay strong. You’re still alive, right? But can you stay strong? Is it even possible? Just smile, you think. Smile and they’ll think you’re alright. Don’t tell them the truth because they wouldn’t understand. They’d think you’re mad, ungrateful, a bad mom or overreacting, right? So just keep your mouth shut and act like everything is fine. Because it has to be. There’s no other way. Life isn’t fair.

http://weheartit.com/Poizonbite/collections/9949126-cut

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Staying strong

I’ve had a few tough days. We spent the weekend in a nice hotel up in the mountains and Jamie (my son) caught a bad cold he still hasn’t been able to get rid of. Which turns him into a daylong grumpy cat. So my nerves are quite frazzled. Also I’m still struggling with all my stupid anxieties even though I’ve already figured out most things about my near future. I’ll start finishing the school year at the end of the month, hopefully pass the final exams with good grades, drop out of school for a year and return in September 2017 to finally graduate the stupid high school. You know, if my life would be and would have always been normal, I’d be done with that crap next year. But because this is my life and it’s not that normal and easy, I’ll need three more school years after my one-year break. And I really need that break. Finishing school at home is too expensive and difficult and I can’t miss Jamie’s first year. The first crawling, words and steps are way too important. Every day, he makes another progress and continuously changes and I can’t miss half of it by spending half the day at school. Not as long as he’s a baby. When I’ll return, he’ll be 22 months old and already a toddler. It will still be terrible for me to be gone half the day from Monday to Friday, but I’ll make it. I just can’t do that as long as he’s so small. He needs me and I need him. Taking a break won’t take away my fears, but it will at least lower them a little bit.

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Of course, my future is not the only thing that worries me. I’m still struggling with all that weight, mood and relapse stuff. I know I’m not relapsing, but I’m scared I will. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been in my entire life, but still I feel so fragile sometimes. I don’t say it out loud, but my body starts to terrify me. I’m not overweight, but because I was pregnant and gave birth, I’m definitely not skinny anymore. I wasn’t underweight (not since 2013), but the sex appeal my body used to have is gone. There is fat, stretch marks and everything is plumb, soft and flabby. I don’t tell anyone, but it scares me. I’ve stopped looking into the mirror expect for putting on makeup sometimes and I could cry when I look at my belly. Jamie was worth it, of course, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but this is horrible anyway. I’m a whole size bigger, because of my huge boobs sometimes even two sizes. And my weight is so terrible for me (even though I don’t know it because seeing the number on the scale would totally bring the eating disorder back I’ve fought so hard against for years) that I’m scared I might get depressed again. I’m sad sometimes (which I know is perfectly normal), but depression hasn’t hit me in months and the longer I’m able to resist, the more I’m scared it might return. Isn’t that ridiculous? Shouldn’t I get stronger and happier every month while staying away from the disorder? Nothing makes sense anymore when I think about my mental illnesses. I know I’m strong. Stronger than most of the people I’ve met in my life. But will I always be this strong? Will I stay away from the voices, be the mother my son deserves?

Dreams and reality

The current topic in my therapy because my therapist says I’m a dreamer and I need to accept the fact that my dreams may fail and I may need a plan B. But do I really need to accept that? Do I need to accept the fact that I may fail? That I actually may be a failure? Why should I do that? Why should I tell myself I may not reach my goals? It’s strange, you know. People always say you need dreams and they’re never too high and you need to hold on to them and they all can come true if you really want it and work hard for it. But once you do that, you’re an illusionist. That’s the rub of all this, isn’t it? You’re told to be yourself and then you’re judged. People can’t keep their words. My therapist asked me today: what if a real fortune teller came to you and told you you won’t reach the goals you set yourself for your future? I guess my answer surprised him: I would do anything to prove him wrong. He responded: but what if he was right and you couldn’t do anything about it? And I said: I would never accept that. I would never give up until I’d made sure I’d done anything I could possibly have to reach my goals. No matter how unrealistic. Some people call me a fighter because of that, others an idiot. But I don’t care. Any dream is realistic that can physically be turned into reality. Wanting a real unicorn is as unrealistic as wanting stupidity to no longer exist, but why can’t a black boy wish to become president? Why can’t a little Neill want to see the moon? Why can’t I move to the continent where I belong in three years and go to college then- though I don’t have any money yet? Why shouldn’t I find a way? That’s the same with revolutions. It’s always a small stupid dream at the beginning until somebody stands up and works as hard as possible to turn it into a new kind of reality. Yeah, I wanna go to a $ 30,000 college even though I don’t have any money right now. Why shouldn’t I find a way? Why should I fail? And I told my therapist: I’m never gonna accept that. Maybe I’m an illusionist because there is no plan B for me and the only possible future is in my eyes the one others call a dream. Of course I’m scared of failing. But I will never accept the possibility for the fear to come true. Everyone keeps telling me I need to live reality, but if reality means giving up on dreams I’ll stay in my world of illusions.

I have reached so much. When I came here last year, I couldn’t imagine to skip purging for a week after I’d done it for four years. And now? I haven’t thrown up by myself in six months and don’t miss it either. I’ve gone through hell to come to where I am today. Yes, I’m scared. But after everything I’ve reached so far, I’ll never give up again before I got what I want. Because I’ve seen I can do it. And I won’t let some doctors who are unhappy with their lives stop me from getting what I want. No matter how hard it’s gonna be and how many doubts I’ll have. It’s never been easy for me anyway. But I’ve always been smarter and stronger than the others. Like the great J. F. Kennedy said: Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve greatly. And I did fail miserably. Now it’s time for part two to happen.

Fear of failure

You know, I have a very concrete plan of my future. I’m a planning person.
One of those people who can’t work without knowing what they’re doing it for. One of those people who can’t struggle without knowing the finish line.
I can’t live without knowing what I’m fighting for.
So I planned my future very detailed. High school graduation in 2016 (now 2018 because of all the stupid psychiatries and that stuff) and starting college fall 2016 (now 2018) or spring 2017 (now 2019). A good college, state doesn’t matter (just not Texas, Alaska or Hawaii), tuition/ tax/ whatever it’s called when it comes to college with room costs and that stuff no chance higher than 25,000 per year, if possible less than 20,000. Elementary school teaching. And then? Finding a job as a elementary school teacher in some nice city and start a family once I’ve found real love.
That’s the plan, but I feel like it’s all starting to fall apart even though there’s still so much time left. It’s just not enough.
I’m so incredibly fucking scared my plan won’t work out. There’s no plan B, just some stupid dreams like getting a scholarship or becoming an FBI agent or a super star.
But no alternative to what I’ve planned. I can’t imagine changing it.
THERE IS NO ALTERNATIVE. THIS IS THE ONLY WAY FOR ME.
But now?
I’m still in therapy, pregnant and without any money. So what am I gonna do?
I really am looking forward to childbirth, but I’m scared of the life I’ll lead then.
I’m scared of failing, not being good enough, not being a good mother.
And even though that’s hard to say because I feel like I’m insulting my child, I’m scared I’ll fuck up my future because of having a child. I’m scared motherhood might ruin all my chances.
I know there are plenty of colleges with child program for young parents, but that’s fucking expensive and I don’t have the money and I don’t even know if it’s so easy to get into such a program at college. I don’t even know if any college will ever want me, and now with a child? And what if I’ll find a college, but then I’ll fuck it up by having bad grades or not enough points of whatever?
What if I won’t get my degree? And I’ll have spent thousands of dollars I don’t even have for nothing? Or I won’t even be able to attend college cuz I won’t find a job and the necessary support to pay it?
And even worse- what if I won’t even be able to take these steps cuz I won’t make my high school graduation? What if it will all be too much for me and in the worst case scenario, I’ll break down and have to go into another hospital? What will happen then?
I’ll be the worst mom ever. Will I be that?
I really wanna do this, but I don’t know if I can. There are so many possible fails and what ifs. What if one of them will catch me? What if I’ll fail? What will be then?
I wanna become a good mother. I wanna make it through.
But am I capable of all this? Is it even possible for me?
Can I do this? Or will I fail?
I’m so scared.
Nobody believes in me. Nobody ever did. I used to not care about that, but now I do.
I feel so stupid for thinking I’ll make any of this. Everybody says I won’t make it, so why should I anyway? How am I supposed to make any of this? HOW?

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