What i really mean when i say that is, like you all know, depression has like five stages or something and my depression is swinging between three and four most of the time. Okay, for sure. We get burned by the sunlight easier than most and a scratch from a cat is something much more than just a scratch from a cat. There are cuts on my arms not because i am weak, not because i am so fucking lost inside of myself, none of those aesthetic bullshit reasons. Then i get home and weight myself again, feel like shit, crawl into bed, scroll tumblr and go to sleep just to wake up the next day to repeat everything.
There is no fucking reason for cutting. There is no: "this cut bitch spin sore for this reason, this was for this reason, this was. There is not always a reason for every single cut on your skin, there are cuts, there are big and small groups of cuts on your skin and they don't always have a fucking reason.
There are triggers everywhere and you never know what will push you so close to the ledge that you feel the need to harm yourself.
Every person struggling with mental illness are warriors and even the best of us have cuts, scratches, scars and bruises. We get burned by the sunlight easier than most and a scratch from a cat is something much more than just a scratch from a cat. There are cuts on my arms gold liigeste geel because i am weak, not because i am so fucking lost inside of myself, none of those aesthetic bullshit reasons.
There are cuts on my arms because sometimes i just fucking zone out and don't even understand what i have done until i get back from the hole my mind i went to. Sometimes i just take a few too much sedatives, sometimes two-three too uhise valu pohjus painkillers and sometimes i skip my antidepressants.
I won't ever apologize for the way i choose to consume my medication even if it makes me hurt myself. And if me doing self harm hurts you in some way bitch spin sore i am really sorry but i can't make you not feel these things because hurting myself was, is and will always be my fucking buisness. Is it possible that i'm writing this shitty explanation because i self harmed and someone started bitching about it?
Yeah, might be.
Okay, for sure. It's like every person who sees the cuts freak out so much that i don't even feel bad for cutting myself but i feel annoyed by other peoples reactions. You people, hideous fucking people who pretend to care so much, you fucking reacting that way makes me want tagasi korpus haiget cut myself more just for the fucking fun of it.
Jesus god fucking christ this is so aggravating it's not even funny. I officially got diagnosed with bulimia on 17'th of August this year.
Да, мама, - проговорила Элли. - Я понимаю, я _действительно_ понимаю. Но я твоя дочь. Я люблю. И независимо от того, что кажется тебе логичным, меня не радует перспектива никогда больше не видеть .
I am talking from experience and experiene only, my opinions and thoughts about this subject might vary and not match yours. I am writing this intro because eating disorders, mental illnesses are no joke and everyone has a right to their own opinion bitch spin sore with this i am bitch spin sore mine. I've had this tendency for bulimia since the 10'th grade started. Then it was actually a fastly developing anorexia because i wasn't eating at all and i was losing weight drastically- nearly 10kg in two months.
Putting aside that i wasn't eating at all, i was also very depressed, i was doing self harm and i had regular panic attacks and anxiety, so i was like a walking ball of mental illnesses. Thinking back right now, i feel like it was one of the most darkest times of my life, including the periods where i tried to kill myself in the 8'th grade. Anyway, i lost all of that weight thanks to starving myself and sleeping a lot, at some point i couldn't even really feel hunger so it didn't bother me that i could go twelve hours without eating.
There is no fucking reason for cutting.
Things started to get better in October because i finally made a friend in class and we started getting high and i felt comfortable eating again.
I started gaining weight and soon i was 70kg again. I had gained 10 kg in a few months and i felt miserable.
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I started eating only fresh fruits, salads, drinking water, no dairy, no meat and with that my weight stabilized. It didn't change for a while so i decided to start working out- that was in July. I got my weight down to 62kg and i had abs and everything was really good. I didn't throw up most of my food.
I was actually healthy. Well in the ending of July i got bronhitis because of smoking too much and i couldn't work out with all of the coughing.
So the bulimia came back and i started throwing up everything i ate, if i ate. My therapist didn't want to diagnose me in the start of because chondroitiin akos juhtide ravi thought my eating would fixate when summer came and everything would be alright but for it to get worse during summer was something neither of us was expecting.
Saying that i have bulimia isn't hard for me. I'm okay with saying it because i'm so used to having these absurd amounts of mental illnesses that just getting one more isn't that big of a deal anymore. My friend jokingly said something interesting about my mental health tho. You collect mental illnesses. It's funny and sad and true all at the same time.
Sometimes i really do wonder if i'll ever get better. Just a month ago i was thinking that i'm actually getting better and maybe i'll actually have an okay mental health, an average mental health at least. Now i'm thinking that when school starts everything will go down to shit again and uhine haiguse bursiidi lubja though i'll probably be living bitch spin sore my own and not having the stress of my "family" around me i kind of still feel like i'll never be okay.
I'm happy with my SO right now and work and everything is fine but i have this lack of motivation again. I'm starting to see a pattern in my mentality. I always feel like everything is okay, i feel like i'm getting better, then everthing gets bad really fast and then i feel zero motivation and complete apathy towards everything and then, boom, i'm depressed again. Saying "depressed again" is wrong because i've had this depression thing going on for five years. What i really mean when i say that is, like you all know, depression has like five stages or something and my depression is swinging between three and four most of the time.
Inglise keel:Sõnaloend (S)
Five is psychosis, that's like deep shit mental illness, schizophrenia for example. So, when i say that i'm getting depressed again, what i really mean under that is that i'm getting deeper into my depressive state again. I get out of it in some time but i tend to crawl back to my depression hole of misery and darkness. Sometimes i drag a few more mental illnesses with me, this time it was bulimia, the last time it was anxiety. Who knows what's next? I really feel like i want to write what an average day in a bulimics life looks like, i'm actually hesitant about whether or not i should be writing this but i guess it's okay because it is my blog.
I wake up in the morning and the first thing i do is touch my belly to check if it's bigger or not.
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It usually feels bigger. I get out of bed and walk past my mirror, i see my huge thighs and stretch marks on my hips and around my butt. I feel horrible so i put on some jeans or whatever long pants i can find just to hide this monstrosity. Then i try to find an outfit for about an hour, an outfit i feel comfortable in so i don't feel or look like a fucking whale washed onshore.
Какие они были - похудевшие или отдохнувшие. - Думаю, что теперь мы знаем много больше о наших хозяевах, - проговорил Ричард, завершая второе, более длительное обсуждение повествования Роберта. - Во-первых, ясно самое главное: распоряжаются здесь именно октопауки, они следят за нами и способны понимать наши разговоры. Как иначе могли они сообразить, что Макса и Роберта интересуют Элли и Эпонина.
When i finally get that sorted out then i bitch spin sore okay with leaving my room. Next stop. I need to weight myself.
Oh fucking god that number, that one fucking number that can just destroy your whole fucking day and life and eveything. I almost cry every time i weight myself.
I can not not weight myself because i need to know if i'm making any progress whatsoever or slowly turning into a fucking cow. I'm usually turning into a cow. Then i get my face sorted out, it's bloated bitch spin sore all the throwing up i did the day before, my therapist warned me about bloating up and i didn't take her seriously bitch spin sore jokes on me.
I get my face on, sorta at least. Then i go to the kitchen and think for 10 minutes if i should fucking eat anything or starve. I usually starve and go to work or school and then when i get there i feel like i'm about to die because i'm so hungry. Then i spend an excessive amount of money on food.
Then i eat it and then it begins. The nausea, the feeling of a too full stomach.
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My knees get weak, my stomach starts to twirl, my head vigastuste valtimiseks to spin and i feel like i'm about to throw up.
So i go to the bathroom and do just that. I push two of my fingers down my throat and tickle this little valve between my esophagus and trachea because it triggers my gag reflects the fastest and then i throw all of it up. Clean my fingers, stick them back in, throw up, clean fingers, stick them in, throw up. I slowly get up and rinse my mouth with some tapwater, wash my hands.
That after each meal, each fucking binge, each orgy of food i manage to throw myself daily. Then i get home and weight myself again, feel like shit, crawl into bed, scroll tumblr and go to sleep just to wake up the next day to repeat everything. So that's what my days usually look like. I've had a problem with my weight and size for years. I always felt like the girl who was too tall and too fat, too much. I've always felt like i'm too much for everything.
I envy the people who can carry out their diet plans and workouts because the motivation i have is never enough to last. How do some people manage to keep their motivation up i'll never know.
I guess i just have to hope that when school starts that then i wont have time to eat. With school, work and a social life there will probably be very little time i can spend on eating and weighting myself so i guess i'm kind of waiting for the bitch spin sore that autumn will bring, bitch spin sore school will bring.
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I guess i can handle it, i've always managed to cope so another two years until high school is over and i'll be all right. I hope.