Sunday, September 23, 2012

The joys of having an ED

WARNING: If you are easily disgusted, you should better stay away from this post. At least the first paragraph will be about *drums please* pooping.

   Because I don't eat, abuse laxatives (one lax-free week! wooo!), purge what I eat and so on and so forth, getting that little bastard out of your body will be a little bit worse than hell. You will sit there, pushing and pushing, hoping you will never give birth -- because it hurts so badly. It will stick there, it won't come out. You can't get it out, so the only option would be to push it back (yes. push it back) and hope you'll poop some other time. You will take some toilet paper and send the poo back inside. OR, still using the paper, you will try to dig your finger inside and get "the little bastard" out. Nothing will work. You will push and push, trying to get it out, but every time you do it, you will get dizzy because of all the blood going up in your head. You will want to die. You will bleed. You will be sore. You won't be able to pee (oh, the joys of that..). You will eventually have to use laxatives and mess up everything again.

   Enough with that.

   I am dreaming of myself and my ex every. single. night. Kissing, talking, lovely words, romantic walks. Everything we used to have. I love the dreams, but once I am awake, they will turn into one more thing that is worse than hell. I cried today at the church. I was hoping that my two little cousins will never have eating disorders. That they will never have to go through what I am. I hope that they will never literally understand me. Then, after I came home, I cried listening to love songs.

   My throat is messed up again. I have only eaten on 4 days this week (Tuesday, Thursday and the weekend) -- the first ones were restricted anyways, especially Thursday (2 Maoam stripes. A LOT, right?! *sarcasm*) That's not even "real" food, but I counted it. I think I have lost 4 pounds, but the weight is probably back on. Can't we just.. skip the weekends?! Gahh. Tomorrow I'm turning back to not eating, because I don't eat on week days, but then I'll probably binge again during the weekend.

   Or not. Because yesterday I went to a friend's birthday party and that's why I gained.

   I want to take Nurofen and laxatives and sedatives. The last ones are only supposed to make you sleep better and I'm pretty sure they have no dangerous side effects if taken too many of them. They are not liek actual sleeping pills (which you only get with a prescription). A pill cocktail with some beer. The kind of beer I used to drink with him. We were officially together on the 12th of October, but my theater group and I are performing a play on that weekend, so I might just do it sooner. I like to "celebrate" this kind of stuff.

   Have a good night. Or whatever.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

School has started

   I have only eaten once this week, on Tuesday (it's Thursday today). I am drinking liquids (mostly milk). Losing weight. Dizzy. Tired. Wonderland.

   I talked to my ex and first ex today. I have been dreaming of me an my ex being together. I n my last dream, he kissed me and told me "You are the only girl have ever loved" and was very sweet in general. It hurts me.

   I would rather have nightmares with my first ex than romantic dreams with the other one. I thought getting over him would be hard, not impossible. One second I miss him, the other I hate him, the next I want to ignore him, repeat. But I mostly want to ignore him.

   You have no idea how tired I am. Very much mentally, not so much physically. I want to be in Wonderland again, where I was depressed and suicidal and when I could fucking cut! I need to cut cut cut, bleed to death, die. I am not depressed now, but depression felt SAFE! Now I feel like I am in the middle of a big crowd, surrounded by awesome people and having fun with them and everything is just so perfect that it's too much. When I was cutting and depressed, I was silent and blaaah.. How can I miss being miserable? How messed up is my mind?

   I am not taking the calcium I have been prescribed. I hate the fact that I start every sentence with "I." It's so damn annoying. And I dislike chemistry. We have to do a stupid project in biology. I feel the need to capitalize chemistry ad biology, but I am not sure. I waaaaaaant... /toofuckingmuch

Edit: I also hate the new Blogger look. Last night, when I shaved my legs, I did't know I had mosquito bites on them and accidentally.. shaved them. They used to hurt a lot, but I am better now. AT LEAST I BLED.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Making a few stories short..

   I went to a doctor a few days ago. I could not breathe, she said I had very low blood pressure and prescribed me some calcium.. Which I'm not really taking. whoops. Still struggling to breathe.

   I am lying to my therapist about my cutting (and self-harm in general0 because I want her to think I am fine, so she'll say we no longer have to meet. She has already kind of said that.. My cutting is a lot less frequent now, but I still do it sometimes because it feels wrong not to do it.

   I am manic lately. Hopeful and happy and.. everything. I am very organized, very clean, I can't sleep at night and I have so many plans for the future! I want to do so many things, have perfect relationships with my friends and less meaningful relationships with boys. I have concluded that they are not worth anything, so I will just stop seeking deep feelings and relationships.

   I am starting school tomorrow (YES!!), so I will most likely not post as often as I do now. Also, I will probably not have the time to read all your blogs, but I will. I usually have more time on weekends. I probably won't comment, but I am reading your blogs. Just so you know.

   I should go and get dressed now. I am seeing Hamlet with one of my best friends (Dee). Yes, I just called her my best friend! I have never done that before. And I'm also having an awesome friendship with Jee. I haven't ever called them these names, but I want to avoid giving any names on this blog. So yes, Dee and Jee are my best friends.

   I feel so relieved that I am single now. Probably the reason why I'm manic.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

From my old blog

   Just a few quotes I posted exactly one year ago on my old blog. All "created" by me.

"The last thing Chanelle felt was her heartbeat -- she never stopped loving."I call my insane inner self "Chanelle". Such a beautiful name, but the people don't see her insanity."I'll always be remembered as the girl who loved to talk about blood and suicide and death and mental illnesses.""And there's them, who made me feel insecure, used and trapped in my own body. I wanted to escape, to be free, but the train has derailed and there's nothing more I can do but pray to God to let me live one more second.""There are very few people who know which quotes are from the internet/songs and which are from the heart.""How much I will bleed, you won't even believe. But that will only happen if you ever leave."

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Never again.

   To all of the 9/11 victims. To all of the families who have lost their loved ones. To the people all around the world who have suffered as a consequence of this event. May your soul be at peace and this disaster, just a bad memory you'll never have to experience again.

   This is also for Dylan Klebold and his family. He did not die today, though he was born on the 11th of September. He is no longer alive, and even more, a few people are dead/paralyzed/etc now because of his and his friend's actions. Despite that, you will be remembered. May your soul find peace.
This is a photo I have taken at the Dachau concentration camp.
It refers to the Holocaust, but it fits very well here, too.

"Remember youth as you pass by
As you are now, so once was I.
As I am now, you soon will be
Prepare to die and follow me."

Pictures of my new room.

   Here they are, sorry for the low quality.

This here is the bed. I love the blue roof-like thing!

This is just a book shelf. I hate it that, on the right side, the books don't fit
vertically. These ones are huge, I know, but not even the regular ones fit.
These are the "For school" books. Not the actual textbooks, but the above ones could be helpful.

Other two book shelves. Top left: books for younger teens/kids.
Top left: Books I've never read and probably never will.
Bottom left (above): Harry Potter books, 2-7. I lost the first one.
(Oh, and a white candle)
Bottom right (above): A book with graffiti and a red candle.
Bottom left (under): Some books I absolutely love.
Middle: A photo I got from a very good friend (and classmate) with the two of us.
We were 10 when she gave it to me.
Bottom right: The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls.
Actually, the entire bottom shelf is meant for books I absolutely love.

Another photo of the bed. The teddy on it is the one I got from
my ex. I still sleep with it at night.. except I don't always kiss him
good morning or good night now. On the left, there's a mirror
and the door to my dressing room.

I could call this my study area. Looking at the above picture,
this should be somewhere on the left. There's the desk, my laptop,
a small lamp, pens and pencils and papers. The drawers are
really cool. You just push them and they open up and it works the same
way when closing them. I've got school notebooks in them.
On the shelf above, there are the books I've already read (top)
and the books I want to read (bottom).

   Well.. tell me what you think?

Monday, September 10, 2012

A bunch of stories I find ironically hilarious

   A few days ago, we had a "family talk." Dad brought us all together: me, mom and little brother sitting on the couch and he in front of us. He started thanking us for such a great vacation, in which we had both "good" and "bad" times (read: our fights, caused by my mistakes, obviously). He thanked especially our mom, because "she paid the entire thing." Give me a break... Also, "this year was financially harder for us, because these 3 weeks of visiting other countries were quite expensive" ("oh, not to mention having to redecorate this bitch's room, what an ungrateful little girl she is" -- they didn't say it, but I think they have at least thought about it). He told us to be respectful, to stay less on the internet, to clean up our rooms and wash the dishes.. After which, turning to me, he told "us" (no, he only meant to say it to me): "If you ever have a problem, you should come to us first. We are your parents and know what's best for you. We will always be here for you, unlike your friends or anyone else. If you have a problem, you discuss it with us, don't try to solve it on your own or with God knows whose help." Excuse meeee? At that moment, I started to laugh hysterically. I laughed for a long time. "When I look at you now, I see myself when my parents told me these things. You'll see, you'll do the same with your kids." To quote my beloved ex, "It's better to show things than to say them." If I'll tell you I have cramps, will you even hear me? Or will you wait until you have to get me to the ER? (It happened)

   Hmm, let me see, one more. Mom cooked yesterday. Lunch and dinner, huge amounts of food. Well, not huge. Just enough for the entire family. And I ate. And ate and ate and ate, because you know what, "I'll purge anyways." Right before puking, I weighed 62.3 (137). After that, I weighed 60.9 (134). Purged 3 lbs, ok. I had taken laxatives a few hours ago. In the morning, after the lax-effect, I weighed *drums please* 59.6  (131). This, my dear ladies, is how to lose weight overnight. Write it down in your tips&tricks notebook. (<-- obvious joke). I feel safe now..
   My therapist seems to not want to see me anymore. She made me decide until Thursday. It's because I can't speak, I can't find a way to speak out my thoughts. There are so many racing through my mind that I can't even speak out loud. She thinks that, because I'm not cutting (this was the only thing she was ever worried about, since my ED is just a "diet"), I am doing so much better. Well, I cut a few days ago on my ribs and inner thighs and lower abdomen, and I hit myself again with my toothbrush. I felt normal again. How can she give up on me when my cutting has decreased, but my ED is taking a turn for the worse? Gahh. She also said that, during this summer, I have been doing so much better with my self-harm. Excuse me? Remember in July, when I have cut the deepest I have ever cut? Remember when I was taking way too much Nurofen (ibuprofen) only to harm myself? Remember the sitting on window sills, remember every-fucking-thing? How can she only see the full half of the glass? She's the nicest lady I've ever met, but God, does she annoy me sometimes.

   I'll finish here, before I remember anything else, because this post is already long enough. I'll post pictures of my new room tomorrow.

Saturday, September 8, 2012


   I feel so stupid for writing that title. I'm the kind of person who writes down everything. First purge, first day without food, first time I took laxatives. It was one year ago, just a few days before school started. I think.

   In the morning, I went to get my legs&etc waxed. I knew I had to buy laxatives after that. Laxatives - what a wicked, strange and new term. The pharmacy was just a few minutes away. I walked inside and axed  asked if they had Dulcolax. The lady said that yes, they had. I asked her to give me one box. I paid and walked away. I had tears in my eyes and I felt sorry, because I knew it was wrong. But I had to take laxes, I just had to.

   As soon as I got home, I took three of them. I was in awful, excruciating, death-inducing,  I'll-never-do-this-again, pain for the rest of the day/night. I also remember that I had a volleyball game the next day, and the lax were still "working." It was embarrassing, because I had to use the toilet a lot and I had cramps and -- it was just awful. I swore never to take them again, even if being empty felt so good. I felt like a snowflake. Cold, light, white, fragile.

   Want to hear another awesome lax story? I was in school and hat taken lax the night before, hoping that I'll be done by the time I have to go to school. They didn't start working until 11 AM, while I was in school. I had cramps and wanted to go home. Anyways, I stayed in school until 2 PM, when classes finished. I went home with my boyfriend (now ex. I should do a post on this) and told him I had cramps, so I probably wouldn't be able to stay much with him.  Brace yourselves. Ready? Ok. I had a little accident on the way home. It was really little, but enough to make me want to run away. I hope he didn't smell anything, God. If I think about it, a normal person would laugh their asses off at this, and I would too, but I can't. I was so insecure, thankfully we were close to my home. AND, thankfully-er, he saw his mom across the street. We couldn't kiss while she was there, right? I don't want to think how weird it would have been if we had been very physically close to each other. So yes, ladies and gentlemen, this was my awesome, literally shitty experience with laxatives.

   Actually, all laxative experiences are literally shitty.

   Where am I now? Taking 15 laxatives in one round, almost everyday (because it's summer and I don't have to get out of the house). It's a 5 times larger quantity, but there is almost no pain/it is bearable. I am very used to them, that's why, and it is sad.

   By the way. I love Starbucks Caramel Frappucinno! Too bad it's probably 300-400 calories, next time I'll take the light one which is under 100 calories. It's so damn expensive.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

I've found a breathtaking, heartbreaking paper.

   I wrote this years ago, while I was still a kid. It breaks my damn heart. It makes me want to cry every single time I read it. I was probably 10 or 11 at that time. It breaks my heart. What I'll write in bold is NOT part of the actual text.

Life's a shit, isn't it? I'm writing these words while swimming in tears. I don't know the sense of life. I never knew it. Always, when I cry... I think: "Why... Why do I exist?" My birth was, is, and will always be a mistake... a big one. I started crying. I was so young. I don't really know... why do I write these words? Maybe to calm down... Maybe I just want to write.. or maybe for no reason. I'm gonna write, why I cry...
I was eating. Now that's awesome, how every single bad thing seems to happen while eating. No wonder I associate everything with it now. My cousin, Ale, wouldn't eat. She was probably 3 or 4. They began to scream at her. I just told 'em to let her do what she wants. Well, not what she wants, but not to force her to eat. She was crying and it broke my heart to see her like that. Then, they told me to shut up. Next, my mom called. She asked me, who I sit next to. In school, that it. Apparently, it was the first week of school. I told her, and it was none of my "BF"'s. Then she told me, they are not true friends if they don't sit next to me. What does she know? Does SHE talk to 'em everyday? No. Then, my "grampies" (haha, grandparents) to wash the plates and stuff (dishes). Am I a slave?! Now, I wouldn't say that today anymore, but they never in their lives asked me to do that. And now, I heard 'em talking 'bout me. Bad things, of course. And now... here's my decision (hope I'll do how I say): (brace yourselves, people.) I don't want to eat anymore. I don't want to care 'bout me anymore. So... I'll write no more. Bye!

   That was it. My eyes were filled with tears when I started typing it. The piece of paper is colored with black pencil, and there are several broken hearts drawn. Even a face of a girl who is crying. Here it is, right in front of you. The proof that I don't have an eating disorder because I want to look good for prom. I knew that not eating would harm me. Now, I don't remember if I actually ate that day or not, but I know there were days when I was a kid when I only ate a slice of bread. Sad, right? Breathtaking. Heartbreaking.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The same

   I am back from the trip. 'twas okay. Ate. Purged. Bleeding throat. yay. And I also cut. Minor cuts. fml

   I want to fade, I want to exercise until 5 AM and take a billion boxes of laxatives, no matter the pain. No matter the pain...