Life is different…but ED is still there

… and the sad thing may even be that I don’t want Ed to be gone. I always denied that Ed functions like a friend, but he does. While I used to talk about evil Bulimia, I have to revise my opinion… but who I mean with Ed is Ana and my excessive exercising. I miss losing weight, something that did not really happen when I was bulimic. I miss working out for hours and stepping on the scale the next morning feeling good about myself and going for another run… I really miss all the miserableness Ed brought me. Maybe I just don’t want myself to be happy? Maybe I need the pain?
But… therapy was no pain. I liked intensive treatment. I felt like I belonged there. I was part of it. I had a role, being the sick one. Even if only for myself. I enjoyed the role. I hated it when I had to tell people in my life, because I don’t like labeling, but had to label myself as bulimic, anorexic, excessive exerciser, cutter, suicidal… at treatment those labels were ok. But in real life… people don’t understand it. Or let’s say most people don’t and even though some could they don’t because they are avoiding thoughts that actually go farther than “what will I watch on TV tonight”…

So, for now, I know I need to keep on going with this different life.
I am happy. I am getting married, and I love this man incredibly much and I feel his love, but love does not keep you alive. Food does… and to get food you need a job… so there is the cycle. Love is tied to conditions that are under external forces. I can influence how I approach these, like what job I’ll take or where I buy my food and what but in the end it’s not in my hands, it’s the community. And unfortunately communities are lacking stability and you fear insecurity and loss.
However, I can control not to eat and to go for a run. I can control the external force namely the scale and it makes me feel so good that I feel sad to think about letting go of this.

God, I miss him

I just miss him so much in my life.
It felt so good to see him at first.
I wondered though if he reads my blogs. I don’t think so, but sometimes he says things, that I have been thinking about in here and I wonder, does he say it because he read it on here or does he say it because he jsut thought the same.
However, I got really mad at him today, I told him I was lonely, and that I soimetimes need someone to talk to when I am really needy. And he tells me to call a support hotline. What the fuck. First, I don’t want to call a fucking support hotline. I don’t waste money on that. second, that is not what I need. I don’t just need to talk. I need to talk to someone who knows me and cares because of me. Some anonymous situation on the phone is ridiculous, I could get in touch with people on BulimihaHelp or whatever instead and it would be better. But a fucking hotline? It’s not helpful at all. my life is too complicated to tell someone on the phone. If I am needy, in times I am really down, I don’t need someone to tell everything, I just need someone who can hold me and reassure me that I belong on this planet, that not all is wasted. I am not asking for pity. I am just asking for direct and immediate support. And I don’t want to bother him, for he knows how much I miss him… It just is so hard to forget about him. And I really try. I even just try to find another guy to hang out with but it does not work… I trust him so much. It is ridiculous.
And all the things he says are the things I tell myself and yet I cannot incorporate it.

I want to be myself again….

I had to leave fast … I got so upset… I did not want to vent out on him, so I decided it would be better to leave soon. And as soon as I had turned the car around I started crying and I had really bad suicidal thoughts. I hit the road towards Mount Bonnell. I got there and sat on the cliffs. Crying. I sent him a message and we messaged a little back and forth. I cried and cried. and it was good I went there, also I was seriously thinking about jumping down. So scary to think about that now… I mean, I was so emotionally unstable in those moments. But I was stronger. I di not. I am home now typing this. And I feel so ripped up. I feel so split in a half. The one half wants the other half back and be one real perosn the other half is scared of the work and the pain.
And that side is stronger most times.
I am so scared.

Feeling my emotions… not.

I guess, I figured something new out last night.
I had a pretty intense day. Work, suffering, self-controlling, loneliness, reflecting, thinking… and again realizing.
I watched two highly intense movies and sometimes I believe that I should write screenplays myself. I would fucking kick ass and get it right to the point. Or I should keep on writing novels, poetry and music for no other audience than my very own little self.

Anyway, I realized something extremely distressing and attritional last night…
I never really let my emotions out. I have them all locked up deep down inside me and I always try to repress them. No matter what it is. I mean, I cannot cry, I cannot laugh with all my heart, I cannot relax and enjoy myself (although I am trying hard sometimes), I cannot tell people when I dislike or like them, nor do I think have I ever told my parents I loved them. I believe it is because of all those mixed feelings I have in general. I feel a lot of things but only projected onto myself in comparison to other or especially to other situations. It is not easy to stay alive. When I was younger I thought a lot about running away or even suicide. I cut my arms, but for some reason (and actually I am glad I couldn’t) I could not cut deep enough. It is awful to be me. I am so full of shame and guilt and anger and yet I know that deep down inside of me there is something else. Someone else. I am so opposite on the inside than on the outside.
Probably if you would ask my friends, family or random people I crossed paths with in my life they would probably describe me as:

fun, outgoing, sweet, caring, stubborn, snobby, arrogant, sarcastic, “zum Pferde stehlen”, well-mannered, moral, perfectionistic, determined, independent, courageous.

But I am not. It’s just my “world-faceto say: Hello world,I am wonderful. I am fine. I fit in.”
I am full of anger, pain, self-hatred, self-pity, self-destruction, self-doubt and guilt. I am alone. And I am a lost romantic who thought she had found that special someone and failed.

I wished I could let my feelings out and embrace the world.
I feel like this journal turns out to be so pessimistic, but I try hard to be more optimistic in life. It is hard. I need someone who guides me through this. How can you let your emotions reveal if you are being rejected, disappointed and hurt? How can you really know what you are feeling if you are not willing to take the risk of accepting it?
But how can you accept feelings if they are being relentlessly perished.
I am so ashamed of my own feelings because they create so much misery within me.
Why do I fail, why do my emotions travel in the wrong lane all the time? Always ready to get hit or smashed or killed. I guess it’s me who went astray.

Maybe I need to confess to my feelings and let them out?
It is not easy because then I will be even more vulnerable, especially others and the world can bruise me then. Don’t I need to protect myself from that? Or is that harm maybe half as evil as the harm I am causing myself already, each and every day?

I know my thoughts may seem kind of off to you, but those who have had a struggle like that may be able to follow my thoughts. Life is tough. But we are in it and we have to deal with it. Life will never be easy. But I believe, that once you find someone who truly understands you and who you can truly trust, someone you can give all your heart to knowing it will be fine, I believe at that point I will be fine.