Oh honestly, I don’t really care what people think of what I say on here. You guys know exactly what I am talking about and what I wish I had the guts to do.
Folks that don’t have the guts to read what my writings or find what I say “triggering” or are sick of reading my writings or haven’t found me yet or (most likely) don’t give a shit are not reading this right now. Or, of course, those that hate my guts and aren’t around for that reason. Oh, that too.
And really, I don’t care. The day I stop losing friends I’m really going to be rather shocked and it’s gonna take some getting used to. “Goodbye, fuck you,” seems to be my motto. So if that’s the way it is, that’s the way it is.
Hey, does talk of wanting to die make you uncomfortable? Then maybe it’s time we talked about it right here, right now. And my reasons why. If you don’t like it you can just close the window.
I saw on You-Tube (not that I watched the whole thing through, I got bored) a thingy about this young woman, late 20’s, who was anorexic and they had her frustrated parents on there. I thought her parents looked kinda old to have a daughter that young. Maybe they smoked and it made them appear older than they really were, all wrinkly and haggard and stuff. She looked about her age. She looked like she had been through a lot and actually presented herself in a rather mature manner, and it also looked like she made an effort to dress nicely, too. I knew it was hard for her in regards to the clothes part. Let me explain that part for a sec.
See, she had been wicked underweight, starving herself a lot, but then something happened, I’m not sure what, I think they forced drugs on her, and she gained weight. Quite a lot. Then she had some pain associated with the physical stuff that was going on (maybe she had some bone issues, they didn’t go into it) so she took pain pills too, and downers, too. Mostly, she used the pills, which she was now addicted to, to cope with her bad feelings about the weight gain. She took an awful lot of pills a day, many downers, and she’d built up a tolerance. From what it sounded, her weight was about what a “normal” person might call “normal” weight for her height. So was she “recovered” from her anorexia?
To me, she looked very, very uncomfortable in her body, and you could see her hatred toward her body in her eyes despite the fact that she’d made such an effort to dress well for the show. She looked so much more comfortable with herself when she was thinner, at least to me she did.
I felt so, so sorry for her, not so much because of the drug addiction, which was now probably killing her (I didn’t bother to see the rest of the show, I got bored of the drugs part) but because I felt she felt so awful about her body and she said a number of times, “I want to go back to the way I was before.”
Wow, can I identify. I guess a lot of folks would have said she was pretty good-looking but to me, that self-hatred obliterated it all. That’s how I feel about my body right now.
I haven’t showered in like a week or so, probably less than that. I think maybe Tuesday night I showered. Then, since then, I haven’t bothered. My legs are blue, all bruised from the skin having stretched so much from rapid weight gain. Actually, it’s just as well I haven’t showered, cuz the skin is cracking all over the place and I would end up with bad sores like I have before. If I showered, my skin would dry out worse. The sores can get infected and take months to heal. As for my belly, well, it’s bad, too, looks pregnant, worse than that, all stuck out and with stretch marks and bruising on that, too. Normally, it kinda sinks in and you can see my ribs and stuff. Well, no more.
I do take drugs. I douse myself up with laxatives as often and as much as I can get away with. This is for comfort. It gets the food material out of my body quicker so I don’t have to carry it around for what ends up being all day and into the next. If I did not abuse laxatives, I would quickly become impacted, anyway. A normal body cannot process this huge amount of food without abusing laxatives. Last year, I got impacted and miserable and I remember having all sorts of gas and stuff and it was bad, I was burping a lot, too, it was worse than this physically. I think if I abuse laxatives, I lessen the risk of stomach rupture. I think the electrolyte imbalance risk is also a problem, but stomach rupture is probably a bigger risk IN MY CASE. Try explaining that to a doctor, and most physical doctors tell me I will throw up before my stomach will rupture and I try to tell them no, this does not happen, my stomach will not throw up. They laugh in my face and tell me to try some self-control. Or give me some psycho mumbo jumbo that is not their territory.
I have been taking the meds I’m supposed to take but I’m sure they are having minimal effect. Oh and I douse myself up with double-dose Klonopin so I can sleep all day whenever I get the chance. This is so I won’t eat. And so I won’t live, that is, so I won’t experience anything, so I can just shut down and be asleep and not do anything all day, pretend I’m dead. I’d take 6 mgs, but I don’t quite dare. I’m not exactly teensy anymore, but I’m not really grandiose either. So 6 mgs would be a lot on a guy, too. I took 4 mgs a number of hours ago but with all the food loaded up in my stomach, these pills have done nothing. I figure my body will be digesting the food forever and forever and the Klonopin will kick in by 2 pm. Then, I won’t be able to walk a straight line. I hope I can sleep really, really nicely for many hours and forget that I’m alive.
I don’t take these pills for anxiety. I take them to make sure I’m totally knocked out. That’s the one and only reason I take them, so that’s why I take the largest dose I dare. I hate the dopey feeling I get from them when I’m awake. I’d rather not be doped up while conscious. Actually, if I could be asleep 24/7 and just wake up to walk the dog and then go back to sleep again, I’d do it. Just sleep day after day after day and do nothing. Definitely, that’s better than spending my time binge eating.
Sleeping the day away is better than doing just about anything, better than hanging with people because people have been mean fuckers lately. I can’t even stand walking down the street and walking near a crowd of people, I feel hateful feelings toward them. Like I want to tell them what assholes they are.
These folks were saying, “Happy Mothers Day!” to each other, hugging each other and putting their arms around each other. I wanted to tell them, “Yeah, assholes. Go celebrate. Eat and get fat.” Cuz all that hugging and stuff is so foreign to me. I have no family, no one to say, “Happy Mother’s Day” to, no one to put my arm around, no one to say, “See ya later,” or “It was nice seeing you,” or whatever. It’s all like a different world to me.
Do you understand what I am saying? I have NO ONE. NO ONE. No human to hug and love. Boy does that ever make me appreciate my dog a whole lot.
I guess when I hold onto that little furry creature, for hours and hours every day, I guess that makes me tell myself I don’t have the guts just yet.