BARELY ALIVE and rarely caring but FREE AT LAST

Hello World..

First of all I want to let you all know that I AM, infact, alive.

After an extremely embarassing b/p and emergency 2am surgery for a colitis of the small intestine...

I was court ordered into an 8 week stay in a hospital in the US.

I don't even have the energy to continue typing right now, and I will probably be sent back to the psyche ward if I am caught on here.. However, I will be back home next week (hopefully without a tube) and my blog will be updated once again..

Thank you so much everyone for your emails of concern and support..

I am NOT recovered by any means. I know that "recovery" will never be an option for me, although I commend those that DO find the high road and the strength to take it..

My mind is a complete fog right now due to medications, food, lack of sleep, and just general madness of spending YET ANOTHER Christmas in a hospital bed...

I could not be more thankful to be free, I can't wait to be high on hungry once again...

much love to you all,

xx constant

Trust me, I'm a compulsive liar.

Starving. Not hungry. Im fine.  Starving.  Everything's fine.

24 hours.. Nothing looks small enough to eat..
36 hours.. I could eat the whole kitchen in one bite.
52 hours empty...If I eat I'll wake up in Hell. I know it. I can feel it in my bones.

So here I am, possibly growing crazier by the second.. or is my mind getting clearer? How do you tell?
I have had the WORST heart palpitations EVER today.. I felt like someone shot me point-blank with a buck-shot. I sank down on the couch clutching my chest and could feel my heart thudding like a fucking bass drum on drugs. 30 seconds. Felt like a month. I one-hundred-percent though I could possibly have been having a heart attack..The scariest part about it is that I wasn't scared.

I also stared at myself in the mirror and screamed silent attrocities at myself for about 15 minutes until I snapped out of it.  Isn't it great that this is what I have to BLOG about on my DAILY blog about MY LIFE? God,  it makes me sick how fucking pathetic I am.

There is nothing remotely attractive about this illness, about me, or about my life.

So, to end on a happy note.... well, I'll try harder to do that tomorrow.

Heavy Inside

Today would have been fasting day four.. Instead I ate thick, heavy, horrible all-bran cereal while my whole family sat and watched me swallow each bite.  lovely.

This was the second mini-intervention of the week. My father came home today and challenged my claims that I was "totally fine"..He weighed me on our crappy bathroom scale (which I PERSONALLY know is incorrect, but nonetheless).. 96 lbs.  (BULLSHIT I am higher, I know it..the satan-scale says so.)
Weigh-in was followed by the somber eating-of-the-cereal-under-supervision.
My younger (14) sister kindly pointed out that "everybody in this family treats her like a child because she is fucked up in the head"..  TRUE  ....Nice choice of words.

SO, there we have it. The clock is ticking by the minutes and I can still feel the cereal, heavy inside me.
I hate this feeling. I want it to be tomorrow. I want to be 6 days starving. I need to be empty.
I am doing another (AT LEAST) 3 day fast starting tomorrow.. (friday)..
I will be gone and out of the house, I will make myself UNAVAILABLE.
There will be no more of this family-watching-all-bran shit for me. Everybody just needs to focus on their own "stuff" and let me whither. I am 19 and as my youger sister so sweetly put it I am FUCKED IN THE HEAD.

Now we know.. so move on, move along, get on with your lives.
I am perfectly content to stay here, on the yellow brick road, forever.

Typical

Halfway through my second day of fasting right now.. I forced myself to "go out" again today for a walk. Always nerve-racking. I ran into my neighbour on the way home and she just HAD to make some comment about how thin I was looking. I'm NOT looking thin. I feel huge today, even though I am finally getting that hungry burn again.

Sometimes I see thin people and wonder if they are "normal" or not..I have also seen people who clearly have an eating disorder and I want SO badly to run up and hug them and talk to them and be friends. I wonder if they think the same thing.. probably not. They probably think "why is that fat bitch staring at me?"   Funnily enough, I ask myself the same question everytime I look in the mirror.

typical.

Smooth Abuse

Well, today was Canadian Thanksgiving and apparantly everybody was in a foul mood.
I was given a mini-intervention and interrogation, including:

•   "what ARE you going to do with your life"
•      "Do you realize you are ALMOST 20"
•  "Do you think your eating disorder is back?"

These are all useless, rhetorical questions.

(correct answers: (a)starve,(b) yes, (c)never left.)

After a lovely screaming session from the family, I was aked to JOIN them for dinner.

This never happens. It is generally understood that I do not,can not, must not eat with the family.

So, place-mat set. Dinner served. Name called. Obligation carried out. I smiled, trying to put the last hour of screaming behind us all. It was as though the moment the food touched my mouth, my plate was suddenly empty.. Then the cookie plate was empty.. then my glass of sickly acidic orange juice. gone.

The plates and glasses were empty but I was full.

When I am full of food I am full of rage. full of hate. full of writhing nausea. full of shit. anxiety levels rising. panic sets in.  SNAP 

I went upstairs and purged for the next 3 hours. brilliant.

This follows another recent episode of acting out on bulimic tendencies. Disgusting, and unfortunately, the only thing I have in my life to write about. I can't handle dinner, how the hell am I supposed to handle a job? (yet another useless, rhetorical question.)

The interrogation jabs from earlier are still swimming in my mind.. I want to start a clothes line- a brand. I want to make other people feel good about themselves while I wallow in self- deprication. I want to make money. I want to be known for something other than my eating disorder. I would love to work at some swanky store and make friends and go out and have them invite me for coffee "after work".. I could almost live like a REAL person....  you do not deserve these thoughts

Too bad I'm not. Daydream over. Back to reality.

I am fasting again. monday, tuesday, wednesday. I am banishing the beast from this house, I need some peace of mind.. I am not worrying about food for three days. This is a short period of time to fast and will simply calm my shaken body and nerves..

....What a smooth justification for abuse.

From inside THE ED BUBBLE

 Nobody can get close to me.. People who WANT to just end up slamming into the eating disorder bubble that forever surrounds me.. People who don't want to can't even see me through the glass. People who WANT to THINK they are close to me have to settle for pretending.
I push everybody away in a quiet, under-handed fashion that nobody can quite put their finger on.
Nobody walks away thinking I'm mean or rude or obnoxious.. But everybody walks away. The majority of them probably don't even know why.

I know why.. Because I am a selfish, lying, self-absorbed, self-abusive, self-isolating, obsessive, pathetic, hungry, manipulative, manic-depressive robot. I doubt I'm even a PERSON anymore. I am certainly not worthy of the term. I have cheated myself. I cheated the game of life and now I'm stuck in check-mate forever. I can't go anywhere. I am inside my eating disorder box and nobody knows where the lock is, let alone the key. I probably ate it, then purged it.. and flushed it down the toilet, into the ocean. "oops."

I went to the mall today again, after 3pm. BIG mistake. Kids everywhere. People everywhere. Highschool girls staring at me. Or were they? Do I just PERCEIVE these things? Do they think I am normal? Do they think I am sick? Do they care? Do I care?..... who cares.
I stood in line at a store for 10 minutes to buy cigarettes. It felt like DAYS.
I had that strange feeling again that I was growing fatter and fatter every fraction of a second that passed.
Sometimes I really think that I am too far down the rabbit hole...far too far...passed the point of no return..and that was years ago.

I saw too many things today. Too many normal, functionally content people. People my age, working jobs, driving cars, going places, living. People who think real thoughts, in their own sane, healthy brains.
Healthy hearts, healthy blood-pressure.. but they aren't even worried about that.. They are worried about what they are going to DO tonight... who they are going to HANG out with.. What's for DINNER...When they can buy that new PHONE they really want so they can text all their BFFFs and go clubbing on Friday...or Saturday... because they are BUSY Friday doing REAL PEOPLE SHIT.

 I wonder what that's like.

No, actually I don't.
I'm not capable of it.
I can't even imagine what it might taste like.

Let the Games Begin

Today was my breaking of fast day and I almost didn't do it.. I really didn't want to. My anxiety level has been comparable to the tidal wave that sweeps away New York City in that movie, "The Day After Tomorrow", or whatever it was called.

Something happened today for the first time in years. I binged in front of  my family. 2 pieces of pizza and a breadstick. I think that's what I gobbled down in the 2 minutes of mechanical, zombie-minded, delerium. My mother and younger brother (18) started talking about politics after I realized what had just happened.. I could just make out the movement of their lips, key-words like "healthcare"..."Obama"..."Hillary Clinton".. It was as though I was watching them from behind thick, sound proof glass. The nausea hit me like a freight train with no breaks. I hadn't eaten anything in alsmot 5 days, and pizza was evidently not a good first choice. I tried to keep myself from jumping out the window while they finished their conversation.  I then proceeded into the backyard to hide and desperately try to purge into a garbage bag.

Remember the good old days of Sesame Street, the tv show?

 When I was a kid it was "brought to you today by the letter B and the number 4"....

Today's show is brought to you by the word "PATHETIC" and more calories than I can handle.

I am praying for tomorrow. I am going to be waking up feeling bloated, sore and too BIG.

I know that fasting really gets me nowhere slow...Or tubed fast.. I know this, but I crave it like a drug.

I have planned careful restriction tomorrow.. I am going to make an effort to take some basic calories in my coffee with real milk, and spike my blood sugar here and there with some life-saver candies. If I'm feeling up to it, I also planned raw carrots at 4pm. 

This is not what I want to do.. what I want to do is PAY for what Ive done... RIGHT NOW.

I need punishment.. I need to take a box of laxatives and regret it all week.. I need to be starving so bad that my skin smells from disintegration.. I need to be bent over the toilet getting whatever is left in me out.

But I'm not.

I am making a conscious effort here to steer my ed behaviours in a "better" direction.

I will never BE better.. I will never BE fixed.. I will certainly never be recovered..

However, I can do my best to make my daily life more managable.. hopefully.

I am fighting my trigger response to stress which says to me in BIG RED BLINKING LIGHTS:

You are eating nothing for the next 4 days and your taking 20 laxatives tonight and you are going to lay in bed dehydrated and feel like shit all day tomorrow you sick fucking bitch and then sabbotage your body with crap and fast some more..

Instead I am going to plaster a fake smile on, drink coffee with milk, cringe and crunch a couple candies into my brittle teeth, and get the hell out of dodge.. well.. at least get out of the house for a few hours.

Great plan.

Let the games begin...

PS: House scale says 96.5 lbs. Mall scale still has me at almost 7lbs higher.

       Both scaled are fucked. I officially trust neither. I am not weighing again until I get a new scale..

       Hopefully that is not another promise I can't keep.