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.

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.

"And everything went better than expected."

   At least if you have a messed up ED-mind, like I do. Or like any ED'ed person has. So, thing is, I've been losing weight recently (past 2-3 days, haha), very very little, but I am very satisfied with it. My appetite has decreased (or the laziness has increased) and I haven't thrown up or used lax (who am I kidding, I just had lax kick in yesterday. At least, no throwing up). Today I have eaten like a "normal person" and had some spaghetti in the evening. It wasn't enough to make me feel bloated, but it was enough to make the scale go up. From the 59.5 I weighed in the morning, I now weighed 60.8, and I have to add I've been drinking a lot more, mostly water. Why? Oh, because I am the Dehydrated Chick who has to lick her own hands because they are so dry.  Wicked, right?
   Ok, back on topic. So, I did not feel bloated and I only looked 5 months pregnant (not 9 month pregnant with triplets like I usually do after eating). I initially didn't even think about purging, but I couldn't resist the temptation. In fact, I could have. I just didn't want to. I went into the bathroom and purged. For some reason, the vomit came out so damn fast and so damn much. I have no idea why, because we rarely eat spaghetti and when we do, I rarely purge them. I was like a vomit waterfall. A vomitfall. After taking a shower and plucking and putting eye drops into my eyes, I weighed myself. 59.5, weight morning. And not everything was purged, meaning I really hope to be somewhere below 59 in the morning. PRETTY PLEASE?! My bmi is almost 20, I don't want that, nonono.
   Do you know what I hate? That I don't have a scale of my own. The one and only scale in the house is located in my mom's bathroom and I always have to walk there to weigh myself. How annoying, especially in the morning, when we all wake up and have to use the bathroom. I always have to wait for her to finish so I can weigh myself, graaaaghjghf.

   End of the post, I wish everyone a good day/night/morning/whatever and I'll see you around soon. ^.^

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.

corpse

   ok, maybe this will be very non-sense and incoherent, i am not going to go back and spell-check and everything. i have just purged and my head is heavy. well. i have got some kind of infection-inflammation-irritation in my mouth, it hurts like hell esp when i eat. spicy or acidic stuff. i have only slept 4 hours last night and my eyes are super-sore. actually i think they're super sore because i've purged yesterday too, my face was red as fuck and my eyes were red and i looked like a demon or zombie or whatever. so i've been having these headaches for a few days now, the thing in my mouth for two days i think.. and yeah, only slept 4 hours. i am off lax for 2 days now because i get cramps out of the blue and then i go and shit and woaaaaah! some lax left in your system since 2 days ago, now that's not weird at all, is it? okokok. um. eah, i've bought some eye drops for my sore eyes, they are still very sore.

   like i was saying, i have just purged, i was not sure at first due to all of the above things. so after not really succeeding at shoving my fingers down my throat (which i rarely do now, i use a brush instead), i decided i should just hit myself with the toothbrush. that kind of sort of turned my entire body red, actually the arms and ribs and hips. ok... after that i tried to purge again and voilaaaa, *hurp*hurp*hurp* for a few minutes, then i just lay myself down on the floor with the toothbrush on my stomach. my throat is so damn numb. it hurts. do you know what it's like to move your toothbrush so violently in your throat that you can feel it like it's going to burst through it and out of th neck? yeah that's so damn sexy. no it's not. then i managed to stand up and my legs were shaky, i looked like a person with a disability or smth (by no means meaning to be rude or offend), my legs couldn't quite support me. then i cleaned up, took a shower and *drums please* went to weigh myself. i only purged 1.2 kg. that iiiiiis, let me google it, 2.6 pounds. Meh.

   i have a therapist appt tomorrow, i'll be full of bruises and with a disgusting hair and face and oooooh, body! and i bet i won't sleep tonight either, despite my eyes hurting so much and my head the same. fuckfuckfuck i sound so stupid. not to mention the way i wrote this post arghhhhhh/bye.

This woman deserves a medal

   I walk in.

"Hello, do you have any Dulcolax?"
"Yes, we do." (of course you do, damn.)
"Two boxes, please." (because I can't fit more into my purse)
"Two? Who uses so many laxatives? Do you use them to lose weight?" (imagine sarcastic, ironic, god-that's-so-stupid tone)
"Oh, no no no. My mom told me to buy a box for her and one for grandma." (what you don't know is that I'll use "this many laxatives" in 4 days. how fucked am I?)
"Ok, here you are. 26 RON." (that's our currency. it's worth 7 bucks)
"Thank you. Bye."

   I walk out. I am smiling. On the inside, I am laughing my ass off.

Edit: Oh oh oh. Something more. I think I walked past my first ex (you know, the one I was together with when I started having "trouble") yesterday, twice. We've both seen each other, though none of us said anything. I must admit I kind of went on that street purposely, to see if he's out and if my second ex (the one I broke up with recently) is out. By the way, today is his birthday and I just texted him, he said "Thanks :))." I suppose it's okay. My first ex's birthday is in a few days too, I think, but he never ever told me when it was. I think it's the 24th, but I'm not sure. Ok, enough about exes. I'm on lax and I have cramps. Yaaaay.

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.

And your family? (3)

   Okay, I've got another gem here. One early morning, I decided to wear a black dress for breakfast. There was something white on it, maybe some toothpaste, and "she" (mom) told me about it, I told her that it's nothing bad since we aren't going out or anything. I tried to get it off, but only managed to do so partially. After a few minutes, after my dad came, she told me about it again. I told her I don't care, using some swearing (not AT anyone) because 1) it was morning (you better leave me alone at that time of the day) and 2) we were heading to breakfast which means food which means I freak out. So no, I don't think it was wrong at all. Then they started to scold me and so on until we reached our table. There, they started to talk to each other about how rude and impolite I am, how they always do what I want, how ungrateful I am. He told me he'll slap me. I wanted to tell him to go ahead, because anyways, he wanted me dead ("So what, if you die, then we'll bury you, no problem" -- I'll never forget that), but I didn't say anything. As they were humiliating me, I started crying. And to make everything "better," some strangers at a table said: "Look at her face.."

   I'll never forget those words, either. I will never forget the humiliation and shame I felt when they didn't let me go upstairs to wash my face and calm myself down. "Sure, whenever anything happens, you go and do some of your things." (read: cut) He also said that I make a big drama out of everything because I was crying. Out of anger and disgust and humiliation. Of course it was my fault, it wasn't them who made a huge thing out of a little toothpaste on my dress. Go to hell.

   Back on topic, we eventually went upstairs and I went straight into the bathroom. He said, "Don't you dare do any of your shit (cut), I will find out." I answered him with "Yeah, sure" and closed the door. I cut a little, nothing bad, just a scratch - only because he's told me not to. Then, the real pain began. I took my toothbrush and hit myself with it. The pain was terrible, but so relieving. I couldn't move my arm anymore. I now have 3-4 purple bruises on each of my arms, probably around 4 bruises on my legs and two on my ribs. They still hurt a little.

   And everything went.. "normally" from then on.

Smoking lunatic

   "To purge or not to purge; that is the question."

   Only 15 laxatives for today. Intake, lower than usual. Still too much, because anything above zero is too much. Go to hell.

   I smoked a cigarette last night. It took me some time to light it up, because there was an awful storm outside because of which I could not sleep. The cigar was stolen from my dad. I either don't know how to smoke or they were just awful, but I never want to do it again. It stinks like hell and the smell is hard to get off. But I felt, I don't know, relaxed. Still, I don't plan on doing it again anytime soon. I don't need more addictions.

   I like to think of this experience as a way to prove to myself that I don't need to be like everyone else, if I don't want to. Cigarettes are awesome when you are with your friends and everyone smokes, you suddenly think they are sort of okay and that you could do it for the rest of your life, but the truth only comes out when you are by yourself.

   I have always been by myself, I guess that's why I have the personality I have. I didn't let people influence me.

   I have been having chest pains. I want to be locked up in a psych ward, with my fellow lunatics. That place feels safe. Horrific, but safe...

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! :)