When the body dysmorphia hits:
I’m such a hideous monster.
I know people mean well when they try to motivate me but I don’t feel it’s possible.
I’m stuck in this disgusting body and I always will be.
I can buy all the clothes I want, wear all the make up, but I’ll still look this sickening.
I despise my existence. I hate that I can’t take the time to care about others in my life because I’m just so damn consumed about how ugly I am.
Every piece of me is just fat. My puffy face with the massive double chin. Chubby fingers, hands, arms, legs- ha, I used to always get complimented on how slender my legs were- now they’re just tree trunks. Awful stomach, I don’t touch alcohol but it certainly looks like I’ve got a beer belly.
Nothing I wear looks good on me, it just isn’t possible. I don’t look feminine or pretty at all.
Stupid fucking overbite with crooked teeth, forehead that’s way too heavy and makes me look deformed.
How can I eat? How can I keep shoveling food inside my repulsive body? But I still fucking do.
Can’t cut calories down because I get really nauseous and lightheaded, really weak.
I’m so ashamed of myself, for both sides of the coin: Ashamed for letting myself be so wrapped up in all of this and ashamed that I’ve let myself become so ugly.
I thought I was on a good track, thought I was making progress in a healthy way.. Well, I was, but it seemed to stop working. I stopped seeing results. I feel like a complete failure.
Moments later, with a dramatic mood shift:
Feeling a bit of a tit.
Ended up opening up completely to R about how I’ve been feeling and cried a lot.
Felt like I really needed that cry, to be honest.
Then later on that day:
My head is still a mess.
I feel so confused and lost.
I’m still struggling to see a future.
If this is all my life is ever going to be, I don’t want it.
When certain times make you question whether bipolar should be considered part of your diagnoses:
I am wide awake.
I was feeling incredibly sad, so took myself to bed, then I just got this massive rush of energy.
So, for the past 2 house I’ve been dancing round my bedroom with earphones in. Hate it when this happens, always leaves me feeling so nauseous but gotta get the energy out.
Also feel good about myself when I’m listening to music, like I forget who I am, and I can pretend I’m pretty for awhile. That part is nice.
I was asked once by my mental health worker if I suffer from mania, I didn’t know enough about it at the time, so I said no. They told me what I’d described to different workers would potentially line up with that diagnosis but I just wasn’t clued up. I think she may have been right. BPD and bipolar… And everything else, I must have made some enemies in a past life, eh?
Thoughts on “family”
I’m coping okay today. Well, so far, so good.
I’m a little sad because I spoke with my nan and she was telling me about all their Christmas plans with my family- of course, I’m not invited. After how they’ve treated me, you’d think it wouldn’t hurt, but it does. I’m glad my nan is so kind to me but at this rate, it’s not likely I’ll ever see her in person again. At least, not for a long time. Don’t have the funds and I highly doubt my granddad would drive to where I live- but yet, he can sit at the same table and pull Christmas crackers with a man that emotionally abuses and intimidates his daughter and sexually assaulted his granddaughter.
I guess everyone’s sick of hearing me talk about it now but that’s the thing about being forced into silence and acceptance- when you break free from that, you want to speak up about whatever happened to you all the goddamn time. You want to repeat your story until your voice is hoarse.
A conversation between me and my nan’s sister.
She doesn’t know the situation between myself and my family, that they cut ties with me after I spoke out. She doesn’t know about what he did or anything like that.
She’s under the impression that we don’t speak because I don’t live in my home town anymore and I’m busy doing other things- which is very sad and so far from the truth.
However, I’m pretty sure if I told her the truth, my nan would kick off and I could potentially lose her as well. It’s a very fucked up situation.
So, Lillie is my little sister, we were insanely close- her and my brother were motivation for me to report what their father did to me, to ensure an investigation and safe guarding would be put in place for their well-being.
She told me that Lillie constantly asks about me, says she misses me, and she can’t understand why she isn’t allowed to speak to me (my mother and HIM don’t want their kids knowing the truth)
God, I miss her and I suppose it is a positive that she hasn’t been brainwashed against me, that’s always a fear for me.
That one part sticks out in my head: “Where is she?” “Rotherham” “I know that but where is she?” So young but so smart. She knows where I am geographically but doesn’t understand where I am in her life (or where I’m not).
All in all, I can’t give an answer on how I am. Both bad and good. Both happy and sad- and all that is in between.
I often feel like I’m going crazy, to feeling absolutely fine and stable, and maybe this is something I should be used to by now.
Still no appointments for mental health care, so I’ve taken to tracking my moods and trying to jot down most of my thoughts.
Earlier, I considered, that maybe I’m doing okay but sabotaging my own happiness because I’m afraid. I feel that makes sense.