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."

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?

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.

Laxieversary

   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.

Bye again?

   Yup! We are going to London. I have a plane in less than 12 hours, at 6 AM. We will get up at 3 AM, might not even sleep. No, I'll sleep. I'll try to.

   My room is finally furnished, I just cleaned my dressing room today.. It took me the entire day, but it was worth it, it is so neat now. I'll post pictures when I come back. Hopefully.

   See you guys soon! :)

A quiz I found on the net

   I found it okay-ish, but the results vere the most interesting. Here they are: http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/leonardo/thinker_quiz/results_and_answers.shtml

Here is the quiz.
You can find more interesting tests here.

   Take a look and share your opinion :)

Lax night and feeling dead

   As the title suggests, I have been on laxatives last night. Before they "kicked in," I was dying because of the heat, was all sweaty and tired and just "blah." Then, sometime early in the morning, I started freezing and had awful cramps. I hid under the blanket and wrapped it around myself the best I could. I was still freezing. I went to the bathroom, but nothing came out. Not yet.. So I returned to my bed (what am I talking, it's just a mattress in an empty room, more on that later*) and covered myself with the blanket. I fell asleep. A few hours later, I wake up still freezing and still shaking and full of cold sweat. I went to the bathroom and.. yeah, you can imagine.  I went to sleep some more after that.
   I woke up at 10 am, home alone. I was so dizzy and so tired and my eyes and head and ears hurt. I got up from the mattress, but did it way too quickly. Which is why, after three seconds of spinning around, I collapsed back on the mattress and closed my eyes. After a few seconds I opened my eyes and the first thought that came to my mind was "Did that really happen? Was it just my imagination, did I dream? How did I get here?" It's always like that. I get up too fast, spin around, can't see anything, feel sick and collapse on whatever is closest to me, preferably something soft like a bed.
   I went downstairs and poured myself two glasses of water: I drank one of them and put the other one in the freezer. As I sipped, it felt so funny to have something in my mouth. I moved my tongue around just to "feel" the water. Next, I went where my book was and only started reading after daydreaming and taking short naps for a few minutes. I read a bit and then.. I can't remember what I did. I know that, a while later, I was on my dad's laptop playing some game and eating an apple. After these last few days, just imagine how much I had to weigh (pun very intended) this situation. "No, don't touch food. But it's just an apple. But then you'll start eating more and more and more and end up binging. No, I won't, it's just an apple, people do eat sometimes, you know? Yes, but you could go a little longer without food, just think about it! Yes, body/mind, but I am so lazy to even eat, so tired and feeling so sick, what makes you think I'll eat more? FINE, GO EAT." So I go into the kitchen, guess what. "Where are those fucking apples?! The only time when I decide to eat and actually feel okay with this idea, there are no damn apples!" I eventually found the last apple left and ate it.

   This was my purely awesomistic day, and it's not even 3 pm yet. Oh, oh! The "*" in the brackets above. I am getting new furniture for my room. I will definitely post pictures, because you know what? I would usually post them on my public blog, but I find it a little unfair to share personal stuff with people that don't know me at all. Fuck dem bitcheeez, I love you guys so much more than I like them! I can be myself here, this is our little dark corner where I speak and you listen and when you feel like it, even make some comments; and then we all pack our stuff and move on to someone else's place and so on. Yes, I'll be sharing the pictures with you guys. The furniture will be blue, different shades of it and some white. My walls are now  white (I'm not going to mention the color they were before..), and one of them will be full of pictures of my choice and hand-written quotes. I used to have something like this before, but it was just a poster on which I wrote. Now I'll have an ENTIRE WALL for that, can you imagine? Welcome to The Asylum, girls.

Woo-haa

   It is so damn warm here.. So, I just found a blog of an "anorexic" girl.. At least, that's what her name says. Her blog title is something like "Starvation diary" bur in Romanian. She weighs too much to be anorexic. She'd have to be 6'6" tall to reach a BMI of 17.5, so yes, she is definitely not "truly" anorexic. Despite that, she's only just started her blog, so I have no idea of her background. I don't know if she's ever been anorexic, but she sure as fuck wants to be. If I find she's a wanna, I don't know.. I'll either stop commenting or post negative comments, but hopefully she's not a wanna. I have already left her a comment in which I told her what "awesome stuff" eating disorders come with, she might not give a damn fuck, but I somehow give a lot of fuck about people who are trying to "catch" an eating disorder that will make them all shiny and pretty and get them thrown in the pool by Chad (hat off to anyone who knows what I'm talking about.)
   Yesss, ramble over. I had a therapist appointment today. We came to the conclusion that my parents are somewhat stupid for humiliating me in public. Then we came to the conclusion that it's good to let go of him. Theeen, we somehow came to the conclusion that I'm not doing "all this stuff" to be thin.
 
   I could write an entire book on that. It's not for being thin, definitely, because I know damn well that throwing up and taking lax (this is my 3rd day off them!) won't make me thin. So, if I know this, why don't I "just stop"?
   Because I fucking can't and am not ready to let these go. The therapist said it's all about my feelings that I need to get out, about the way I censor myself way too much, about the control people want to keep me under and the way I want to escape that control.

   I don't necessarily fantasize about being thin. I fantasize about "being dead, so fucking dead, like a corpse.. white skin, tired eyes, not being able to walk or breathe or speak or concentrate or even live. Ashes, ashes.."
It's a little weird, I know.. "Why in the world would you or anybody else wanna like that?"

   Don't ask me, ask the other me, ask my schizo imaginary friends, my bipolar rats, the homicidal monsters under my bed, my paranoid brain and my cannibal tongue and teeth. Mwhahahaha.

The dream/s (4)

   This is the last post, I think. It is 3 AM as I am writing it, but I will only publish it later. On the way to Vienna, I have had a very interesting dream, it really made me think.

   We were in Vienna. As we were waiting for the light to turn green, a man with some bags in his hands walked across the street and left his bags in the middle of it. I suspiciously walked to them and opened them - bombs. Everyone started screaming and running, I ran into some bushes trying to hide there. But guess what? There was another bomb! Which exploded. The next second I saw myself in our car, dad was driving, I was sleeping. I knew I had died. "But.. But what if my friends and everyone I know won't find out that I am dead? What about *24-year-old man who was flirting with me. See this and this.*, *friend from the internet who knows about some of my issues* and *ex boyfriend*? Will they forget me? Will they know I'm dead? But what about me, there were a few things that I still want to do.. No, girl, it's okay. You are dead now. This is all you ever wanted, you are okay." Then "My Immortal" from Evanescence started playing and I started to see myself less and less, from farther and farther until I woke up.

   "Am I dead? Should I ask them? No.. I'm not dead. But it felt so real."

   there was another dream in which I was with a guy, taller and more handsome than my ex, who was caring and strong and we kissed and I fell in love with him for a second. I quickly forgot him after that, but I'll never forget how he treated me. He was more romantic and caring and warm than my ex, which is what I have always sought.

   Then, another dream. Me and my ex at my place. We were very close to each other. We talked about getting back together, and I told him how many times I had dreamed about that (actual dreams, not day dreaming), but was so happy that it was finally "real." I caressed his hair with my fingers and actually felt it, I thought it was real and couldn't believe it. Then we went into my room and started kissing, he took of his clothes but was very shy, then he disappeared somewhere in my closet, I think. I went to take off my clothes in the bathroom, and while I was doing it, my dad went to my ex and they started fighting, he threw him out of the house.. And then I woke up.

   So wicked.

What about self-harming? (2)

   Oh, yes, I didn't leave that at home either. Let me tell you how it all began..

   It was one beautiful evening in Paris. We were at a restaurant that had free WiFi. I went on facebook. BIG mistake. Probably. My ex-friend and her current best friend were talking about my ex, "my guy" as I usually refer to him. They were saying that they haven't talked to him in a long time, that they don't know where he'd gone, etc. I became so damn angry. I could have ran barefoot back to Romania and ripped their clothes off and eaten them alive and then purged them and blaaaaah. Okay. As we were walking down Champs-Élysées, I started scratching my arm. I had so much anger and adrenaline inside me, that I literally wanted to run and scream. I tapped my feet and fingers and so on. So I scratched and scratched and scratched, and now I have a nasty scar, but it's healing. I also have some kind of scratch on my ankle, it looks like a cut but it's not one. 

   This event was followed by three days of thinking about him, crying and grieving and planning to meet with him as soon as I got back. To open his eyes, to show him how stupid it was that we broke up for nothing, to give him some present for his birthday (which will soon be) or to simply have a chat with him, spend time with him.

   I forgot to mention that I have dreamed of him every. single. night. I think I always have, since we broke up. 

   But then, one day, it shot me in the head: WELL, GO TO HELL. You didn't "cure" me of my ED or cutting or depression or insanity or whatever you want to call it. I have always put you above everything, you were the person I woke up for each morning, you were my absolute everything and I can't say that I don't care about you anymore -- just not that much. I have put my friends aside because I loved you so much. I want to change this. For God's sake, I have changed my hairstyle (shorter hair), I am completely changing my room (painted the walls, buying new furniture), I have bought new clothes and am wearing a new perfume. So yes, I will change one more thing: I will start caring about my friends, loving them, sharing things with them ("normal" stuff, not the lunatic things that scare/push people away). I have two lollipops. I wanted to give them to him for his b-day, but I will give them to my two best friends (whom we'll call from now on Dee and Jee, because I don't want to give their real names). I have talked to them today and it feels so good, we always have such a great time together.

   There is, in the end, the letting go.

I have returned

   Our trip was more or less eventful. The spicy details will come tomorrow. It felt like home...

Edit: I have talked to my mom and told her I'm not going to church tomorrow, because I need to take lax so I will probably write the next post this night. This sleepless night...

8 hours left

   Well, this is it. It's 11 PM now, we're leaving tomorrow at 7 AM. I have barely eaten anything until dinner, but I guess it was just.. fine. It was better than any of this week's days. I didn't take laxatives, because it would have been stupid. Imagine what would have happened if they didn't "do their job" before leaving! I don't even want to imagine. I hope there will only be a little/no weight gain tomorrow morning. It usually adds up after taking lax.

   I have bought a few Fitness bars, each under 95 calories. I also have some rice cakes/crackers, which are 24-40 calories. I'm ok with that. I also have some apples, gum, coke zero and Nestea. I should be aaaalright.

   I'll go to sleep now. I will bring 3 books with me, because we'll be in a car for 4000 km (not all at once, but throughout these 2 weeks). See you guys when I come back.

Okay then..

   This vocaroo thingy is driving me crazy. I've been trying all day long to record a short, cute message, but of course it refused to work. Then why did it work yesterday? Arghhhh.

   In a nutshell, I wanted to tell you that I am leaving tomorrow morning. We'll be visiting five countries, starting from Romania (not included in those 5), then to the West of Europe and then back here to Romania, the country with no schools or roads or jobs or money or anything. Okay, it's not as bad as it seems, but it could be improved.
   I will still read your blogs on my phone if the hotels will have free Wi-Fi connection, but I probably won't comment. And if I won't be able to read your blogs from there, I'll definitely read them as soon as I get back home.. Which will happen in two weeks, say, around the 18th of August.

   My dad will pick me up in two hours to go grocery shopping. I really want to buy a hundred of those 90-100 kcal bars. I won't be able to count my calories properly while on vacation, so at least I will have a few "safe foods" besides the salads and other healthy (again, "safe") foods I'll be eating. I want to enjoy myself there, and that will only be possible if I don't feel guilty about food.
   I honestly hope I'll actually lose weight there.

   And you know what? My hair is super cute! :D I cut it a few weeks ago, it used to be really long but looked a bit weird, since I have very little hair (it's super-falling out). Now it's shorter, mid-length, and looks like there's more of it. It's dark-blonde, but because of the sun I hope it will be even blonder. It's up in some sort of bun right now because I absolutely love having curls. My hair is very straight, people often ask me if I use an iron, but I don't even own one.. And by the waaay, I have done my nails. White, blue, red, purple, black --> in this order from left to right, each hand.

   I have taken a shower, plucked my eyebrows and I'll shave my legs tonight (too much information, sorry) and I'll feel super pretty! I already feel super pretty. I am haaaaaappy! Dude, seriously, a few days ago I was depressed  and was thinking about pill cocktails I could take to "put me to sleep," but now I feel so amazing and okay and cute and blaaah. Shoot me now.

   I hope everyone is okay, I'm sending big hugs to Stacy and also to E.J. and Jessica, if they're still reading this blog, and I'm actually sending big hugs to everyone since I feel so okay now.

   Baaaaaaaai.

How to break a heart

   This is me reciting the poem. *I'm not playing the piano, it's from Youtube.

How to break a heart?

Well, it's really not that hard.

Take her soul and play with it

The pain she'll feel is infinite.

How to break a heart? It's easy.

Shake it fast, make her dizzy.

Squeeze it, punch it, maybe throw

The thing against a wall.

Break this heart, my dearest boy

Take it, now it is your toy.

Break it, break it, break – hooray!

Who cares if she'll never be okay?

How easily you walked away

Left my path, picked your own way.

You don't need, dear boy, to care.

To break my heart, I know you'd dare.

And so I'll cry all night in fear

Because you broke that heart, my dear

That heart which once belonged to me

You broke a heart, proud you should be.

Normal?

   I don't know what to say.

   The blog stats show that this week's traffic was mostly brought by the keywords "columbine high school massacre." I have written a blog post on that a few months ago. The reason why I think people have looked for it is the recent Colorado Dark Knight Shooting. It seemed quite unbelievable to me, but I am sure it must have been horrifying.

   Things have been going on in a weird way lately.. I gained muscle weight from the gym, then started eating less and dropped 1 kilo (2 pounds). Now I am on the second round of lax today and I hope I'll be "done" by 8 o'clock this morning. I hate the unexpectedness they bring..

   I will leave on Sunday, but I'll be back in a few days.

   Everything feels more normal than usual. I am scared.

Awake

   It's almost 4 AM and I am sitting in front of my laptop, sleepless, tired. I am cold and warm and sweaty and I have cramps -- this time not from laxatives. This time it's from the craziness that surrounds me. The hot weather, bugs flying around me, eating and purging and awful chest pains that scare me to death: what if I die? So I wait and wait and wait, still hot and tired. I will try to sleep in the morning, but I know that I will fail because the weather won't get any colder; no, it will get hotter. I will feel worse and I will die, drowning in my own sweat and acid and tears and water.

   I don't know what to do, I can't go to sleep. I have been reading, surfing the internet, stalking people on the net, reading stupid useless articles and watching series, but nothing works. I have cramps, why the heck do I have cramps? I need to write to distract myself..

   The clock is ticking.

Chronically hallucinating.. (3)

   This is the last post from the "Chronically hallucinating" series. Enjoy it. (Warning: Long post, but I can't cure the passion, sorry.)

   If you have been reading my blog for a while, you should already know that I am fascinated by mental illnesses. While doing research and reading the symptoms, I have found that some apply to me. I will now talk about the cases in which many/most symptoms apply to me.

   Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified

1. Meet all criteria for anorexia nervosa except have regular menstrual cycles
2. Meet all criteria for anorexia nervosa except their weight falls within the normal range
3. Meet all criteria for bulimia nervosa except they engage in binge eating or purging behaviors less than twice per week or for fewer than three months
4. Purge after eating small amounts of food while retaining a normal body weight
5. Repeatedly chew and spit out large amounts of food without swallowing
6. Meet criteria for binge eating disorder

(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EDNOS)

   Let's take them one by one. I am a bit skeptical and unsure about the first two. I am afraid of weight gain, I have a preoccupation with food content and calories, I have fine hair over my body (lucky me), I purge, I do not see myself the way others see me (thin, etc), I have depression (oh yesss), I am "withdrawn and secretive," my hair is a mess and so are my nails, I have constipation, maybe calcium deficiency (both my dad and therapist said that, because my muscles go numb and because they hurt very much sometimes), I can't see anything when I stand up because I am getting dizzy, sometimes my teeth hurt even in contact with air (breathing). 

   In conclusion, I do meet some criteria for Anorexia Nervosa, but still am at a normal weight (BMI around 19; under 18.5 to be underweight; under 17.5 to be considered anorexic) and have my periods. Therefore, I am not anorexic. 

   The above symptoms apply for bulimia too, I suppose. The only thing is that I rarely binge, because the purging does happen in my case (vomiting, laxatives). Therefore, I am not bulimic.

   Number four does apply.

   Number five and six do not apply.

   I guess I'm left with EDNOS.

   Schizoid Personality Disorder

  I am not very familiar with this one, since it only hit me a few days ago that I fit some of the diagnosis criteria.

1. Neither desires nor enjoys relationships or human interaction, including being part of a family TRUE
2. Almost always chooses solitary activities TRUE
3. Has little, if any, interest in having sexual experiences with another person ? (I do not have interest in sexual experiences, but kissing and romatic-affectionate-ish things? Definitely.)
4. Takes pleasure in few, if any, activities with other people TRUE
5. Lacks close friends or confidants other than first-degree relatives TRUE (Not even first-degree relatives. I only trust my therapist, other people know nothing about me)
6. Appears indifferent to the praise or criticism of others TRUE (more indifferent to praise than to criticism)
7. Shows emotional coldness, detachment, or flattened affect ? (I have been told that I am not empathetic at all, that I am cold and sometimes mean. I feel exactly the opposite. I feel that, because I can relate to people's suffering, I am more empathetic than anyone, despite not showing it because I do not want others to see that I know what it is like to suffer)

(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizoid_personality_disorder#Diagnosis)

Other things that apply to me:

[...]have trouble establishing personal relationships or expressing their feelings in a meaningful way, and may remain passive in the face of unfavorable situations.
[...]there occurs an impoverishment in which one's self image becomes increasingly empty and volatilized, leading the individual himself to feel unreal.
[...] secret schizoids - presenting themselves as socially available, interested, engaged, and involved in interacting in the eyes of the observer, while at the same time remaining emotionally withdrawn and sequestered within the safety of the internal world.
[...] the schizoid individual is able to express a great deal of feeling and to make what appear to be impressive social contacts while in reality giving nothing and losing nothing; because he is only "playing a part," his own personality is not involved.
-Unloving, intrusive, or neglectful parenting is hypothesized to play a role. (I liked this one.)


   Selective mutism


   This is not a mental illness, but more like a symptom of anxiety disorder. 
   
   Children and adults with selective mutism are fully capable of speech and understanding language but fail to speak in certain situations, though speech is expected of them. [...] The failure to speak is not due to a lack of knowledge of, or comfort with, the spoken language required in the social situation.[...] The former name elective mutism indicates a widespread misconception that selective mute people choose to be silent in certain situations, while the truth is that they often wish to speak but cannot. To reflect the involuntary nature of this disorder, the name was changed to selective mutism [...] Despite the change of name from "elective" to "selective", a common misconception remains that a selectively mute child is defiant or stubborn.


   If you read everything that I managed to read/research in about two hours (SPD & Selective mutism - the EDNOS part was researched and experienced day and night for the last year or so), you, sir/lady, deserve a medal. Thank you very much.

Chronically hallucinating.. (2)

   The hallucinations.


   I don't know if I should really call them hallucinations, though I couldn't call them otherwise, either.

   I think it happened in April. I was on holiday, it was around 4 o'clock in the afternoon and I was at home with Dad and my brother. I wanted to weigh myself. To reach the scale, I had to get out of my room, go through my parents' bedroom and then into my mom's bathroom, where the only scale in the house is located. Therefore, I get out of my room. Before entering my parents' bedroom, I saw my mother entering the house and closing the door. She just came back from work, which was odd, since she never comes homes before 6. She walked to the mirror downstairs (I was upstairs) and put her keys on the table. She then took out her blackberry  and started reading e-mails. I didn't say hi, just kept walking until I got to the scale. I stepped on it -- it was totally off. I triple-weighed myself and got different numbers each time, so I gave up. I had to tell my mother that the scale wasn't accurate, so she could buy a new one. I went downstairs and couldn't find her. I went to my dad and asked him about her.
"She's, umm, at work?"
"But I swear she was here 2 minutes ago!"

   This happened to me twice, both situations with my mother coming home from work too early. It seemed so damn real. If that was not a hallucination, I don't know what it was.

   I also used to have auditory hallucinations on Saturday mornings. I used to lie in my bed after waking up and hear voices downstairs. It was usually one of my grandmas or my brother's ex-nanny. When I asked my parents if anyone had come over, they said no. I carefully listened each time, and could swear on God that I heard their voices and usually could also recognize whose voice it was. It was not the television. And my parent's don't have the ability, as far as I know, to change their voices to match my grandmas' and the nanny's.

   Sometimes, when I walk, I hear something "clicking" in my head with each step I make -- and it's not my earrings. It is an annoying sound, but it has not happened in a few weeks. Other times I just hear a long "riiiiing" somewhere far, far away, but it seems so near and it is disturbing, especially because I am the only one who can hear it. It also happens that I hear an old, high-note alarm tone from my mother's alarm-thingy. We have it since I was a little kid and used to play with it then. I do not hear it as if it would actually come from the alarm, but more as if it were in the back of my head.


   I think the hallucinations I got after not sleeping for a long period of time don't count -- because those are caused by lack of sleep. I was paranoid and saw all kinds of lights and shadows (among other auditory and tactile "hallucinations"). Check out the post here.

   That would be it, I guess. What do you think? Lunatic or not? Kidding.

Chronically hallucinating.. (1)

   Okay, that is just a line from Emilie Autumn's "Girls! Girls! Girls!" but it is the best title I could come up with. This post will cover three topics:


The world in my perspective (and how out of my body I feel sometimes
Hallucinations
Mental illnesses symptoms that I have

Later edit: I will make a series of three posts, because they tend to get longer than they're supposed to and people will get easily bored of my ramblings.

  The world.


(Not trying to influence anyone's opinion/perspective/thoughts on the world. Just my thoughts on the subject, you do not have to agree.)


   I think that the world is practically useless. You are born, live a pretty shitty life and then you die. What is the point of living when you don't get anything in return? "Well, if you've lived a happy life, then it was worth it.." NO. What if you have had a happy life? You will die and after that, everything you have done would be forgotten. Yes, there might people who care about you, but the will die too.
   For example, a person who lived 700 years ago. Say it's a woman. She had a happy life, ten children who loved her and whom she loved, a loving husband and an overall awesome life. One sad, horrific day, poor woman died. Her family cried and mourned her and so on, and said that she would never be forgotten. A few years later, the husband died. The kids cried and mourned again and, a few decades later, they died too. They were cried for and mourned by their wives and kids. Later, those died too, and their friends and families were sad. Then, those died too and so on and so forth. WHO GAVE A FUCK ABOUT THE WOMAN ANYMORE? Yes, that woman in the beginning. No one. 


   Sometimes I feel that I am not myself. I look in the mirror and there is a girl who looks like me, but she stares back at me and talks to me and tells me that I am insane. She laughs and me and pretends to be crazy, pretends to have escaped from a psych ward or something. She points at me and tells me I am so stupid, so mad or so insane. She looks at me in the mirror when I cut and laughs at the cuts, "Is that all you can do?" or "Blood! Finally!"
    Sometimes, when I get up from a chair or bed, I feel dizzy. Actually, I always feel dizzy. Then I make a few steps while still being dizzy, but I can see some shapes and colors. After a few moments, I "wake up" and wonder how I got there. I vaguely remember walking towards that spot, but I keep denying that I am the one who brought me there. It feels like a dream. Or in the mornings when I get out of bed, walk towards the mirror, check the way my abdomen looks and then fall back on the bed because I am too dizzy. I blink a few times and feel nauseated, I close my eyes and after opening them, it feels like nothing had happened, like walking towards the mirror and falling back on the bed was all a dream.


--> Happy Birthday, America! :)