update

Well, I am sort of back on track with things.

Food is going better - I am getting back on track with the excuse to my head, that as long as i am eating healthily, I can eat a normal amount - afterall, if i am going to eat, it may as well be stuff my body actually needs - which is a BALANCED diet... not one skipping on carbs, or fat.
In a way, as frustrating as it was, not loosing any weight on my blip (grrrrrrr) probably helped me not to go backward as much as i could have done. Although frustrating, and a bit scary (have i suddenly lost my ability to get thin?!), it is probably better for me.

I am not happy at this weight, but I have to deal with it.
There should be more to my life then this.

I am also sort of back on track with college ish.
I am practicing again, and am *apparently* according to my teacher, doing well. My technique is coming on, and for the most part I am managing to practice, even on my worst days,

Being in 4th year is scary, and alongside group, and my depression, i am absolutely petrified that i wont get to the end of it. I am finding my motivation pretty non existent still, which makes me think that the antidepressants just aren't working as well as they should be.
What if it all screws up again?
What if I just cant keep this rather ridicules work load up?!
Group takes out a day, and counciling takes up 1/2 a day, so compared to everyone else, i am 1.5 days down, chuck in mental health issues and dyslexia on top, and it leaves me with very little room to feel like im keeping up.
fuck.

group is hard at the moment - i am feeling less motivation toward it, partly because i have to go into college strait after for 5 hours of class (yes, group 9-3, and then strait into college til 9.30). It is a stupid thing to do, it isn't leaving me with any room to process the shit that has happened in group, nor am i in the right headspace to benefit from my lessons (2 hour lecture, 1 hour recorder lesson, and 2 hours chamber coaching). Unfortunatly there is no way round it - and this is how it will be for the year.

to top it off, my teachers at college seem to be expecting me (as the oldest person there) to organise all rehearsals and extra department things. I cant deal with it - but my teacher just sees that as laziness.

Also, not having the best time in my house share.
Living with the landlady seems to equal me feeling like a 3rd wheel, and potential blame landing on me every time. 2 days ago, the sink in the kitchen blocked and sprang a leak. I cleaned it, unbloked it - all before she got back - and when i told her it was 'well, i need to know exactly what happened because i need to decide who gets billed'. she was implying that i had deliberatly put stuff down the sink and bloked it - which is ridiculas - and even if i had - the sink should not leak!!!

Its turning into a regular feature of life at number 42 :(

I mentioned it at group, and one of the therapists suggested that maybe its something im doing :,-( If it is, i have no idea what, and last year Jo told be she didnt know why i had issues, because she thought i was easy to live with.

I am feeling down. really down.

slipping

well,
having gotten my mark for my recital, i have been slipping.

i got an unexpected 58. which is lower then i have ever had, made worse by the fact that i thought it had gone well.

i have cried a lot.
i have been desperate to cut (i have many scratches)
i made myself sick
i have restricted my food.

i am slipping into my old familiar pattern that i have been missing for years.     
i know i shouldn't be doing this, but i just want to loose the extra half stone i put on this year.
i was a healthy weight without it.
it wont take long
i need to do this.


oh dear.

its a 'meh' sort of an evening.

I suppose the title says it all.

I am feeling a bit pants.

My birthday was nice, i spent it with the boy, we went to the sealife centre, and ate sushi.

but today, i have memories and hurt washing through my head, at what seems like breakneck speed.


I dont know why, i dont really even know what. just immense pain for how much people let me down. How much people knew what was going on, and how little anybody took it upon themselves to help me.

was i that worthless?
did i mean that little that not one person bothered to try and stop what was going on?


people knew, far more then i ever realised. they saw it with their own eyes, and barley did a thing.
even when the head teacher found out about my self harm, she barley did a thing. my wrists were a mess, i was cutting up too 20 times a day (and always in groups of threes... thats 90 cuts). all she did was wince when she made me show her, and suggest that maybe i should talk to someone. she didn't bother to find out why i was doing it, didn't bother to look deep enough to see what was going on in her own school.

in primary school people saw, and again didn't bother to do anything.
someone even told mum that the bullying was really bad, and she did nothing.

i suppose that is the biggest betrayal of all.

my own mother. the person who is meant to love and protect me. did nothing.

it hurts :,-(

i want to cut. i am trying not too. my mind is constantly worried about body shape... i suppose im trying to blot out the thoughts with the 'safe' ways of dealing with them.
i feel like i haven't even realised how much shit i have left to shovel.

Birthday...

Well, it is sort of officially my birthday now... by 1 hour and 10 min.

I am feeling mixed.

I had a small gathering of mutual friends at Mikes house yesturday, which was nice. I didn't want it, because i was scared that no one would turn up. They did, and it was nice - but it seems that most birthdays spark memories of school, which leaves me feeling a bit wierd.
I have memories of my 8th or 9th birthday party, in which mum invited all of my class (which i had asked her not to do) and i just remember feeling like a spare part... mum admitted to me reacently, that she had realised that day why i had asked her not to invite them... apparently they were not particularly nice to me.

Many memories, many sad thoughts. Birthdays are not really happy occasions.

I dont even know how it is possible to work through all of this crap - I dont know where to start, and how to begin. I am sad, I want to cry.

It almost makes it worse that my flatmate is lovely. That sounds crazy, but i suppose it highlights just how shit things were. Maybe it wasn't my fault. Maybe i really just was incredibly unluchky. Either way, it is just not fare.

I feel tearful.

In comparison to last year, food wise, i am far better... or far fatter, it depends how you view it. Yesterday i realized that half of my cloths don't fit. It is doing my head in. I know I should feel proud of myself or somthing, but i would rather chuck myself off a building then be OK with this.

hmph. Glum beginnings to my day xxx

Well,
another day, another time i find out about a friend who has ended up very ill.
A friend in birmingham ended up in an acute psychiatric unit 4 weeks ago, she is still there, i only found out last night.

I spoke to her today, will visit her on thursday.

It really makes me conscious of just how easy it would be to actually go through with the thoughts of suicide... it sounds bad, but i remember the safety in hospital - to know that you cant do anything even if you want to, just made it so much easier to deal with.

*i am not currently suicidal, so no alarm bells please*

sometimes, i look back on the times iv been horrendously down, and i wonder how i didn't act on my wishes. There have been many times when i have counted out collections of tablets. Many times when I stood on the edge of train platforms willing myself to have the guts to just jump.
Yet I never did. I wanted too, I needed too, but somewhere at the back of my mind was the guilt that i could potentially destroy my little sisters life.

To lots of people, that comes across as brave or caring.
to the mind of a depressed person, that is simply cowardice.

There are many times when I wish i had have done it. Fostered on occasion by the NHS's complete lack of help unless you are at the point of activley trying to top yourself.

A few months ago, I was depressed yet again, to the point where i dropped uni, i couldn't go out due to anxiety. all i did for weeks on end was cry and cry, and cry. There were times in those weeks where i called Samaritans at 3am because i had piles of tablets out in front of me, and so desperately wanted to take them. I lost touch with my friends, I cut a lot, I certainly wasn't managing life as a normal human being - yet, i was only offered 1 appointment during that time with the community team, they assessed me, faffed with my meds (once), and i haven't seen them since - infact my next appointment is helpfully at the end of January 2014! I have not even been given a follow up phonecall to see how these meds are treating me.
Had I have told them that after that appointment i was planning to kill myself, they may have taken it slightly more seriously. As it was, I told them about the thoughts, and the tablets, and they mearley suggested chucking the tablets away when i got home... that obviously didn't happen!

Sometimes i wish i had have had the guts, so i would have been given the help that my friend is now getting (yes i know to a normal person that is nuts)

Right now, i am fortunate.
I have group, and my parents help cover a councilor once a week.
I am determined that this will not continue to be my life.
I need to be better, and then i need to use my experiances to do something positive in the world x

a day full of tears

well, today was group day.

we haven't had it in 2 weeks due to the holidays, so it was the first time back in a while - and it was really, rather good to be back (?!!!)

good, but quite stressful really.

I actually get on with the group far better then i thought i ever would - for the most part, they are people to laugh with, people to cry with, i feel more open with them then i am anywhere else in my life really.
It sort of feels nice to be one of 'the girls' - feeling included is not really a feeling iv had very often - and its usually a feeling i'd run from - but it feels good.

today was pretty hard really - had my first review, in which i really didn't know what to say - people think im doing well, and being open, and making progress, which is good. I think i am making progress, i was talking to my counceler (i hadn't mentioned my review or how i was doing), and she said so too today - im 'not hanging around' - and she is right - i can not be bothered to waste any more time being ill - it does not define me, it will not be my life for another 13 years, so i am grabbing this therapy by the horns, and making a bloody good go of it.

I am sure i will come up against hard times there, and it really isn't a walk in the park - but m goodness, i am bloody determined that i will make it work, however i feel.

The thing that really got to me today, was the talk from others upon the subject of mothers and grandmothers. Mostly, people in group seemed to either have a good relationship with their mum, or their gran - they had a good relationship. I got very angry at them. i didnt want to listen to it, i didnt want to hear it - i wanted them to piss off. I was jealous. i AM jealous.
I had neither a good relationship with mum, nor my gran. I certainly have no fond memories to look back on and smile at. I am not angry at the people in group - i am angry that i never had that. I am angry that the two people who are meant to love and protect me, were the ones that either destroyed me, or passivly stood by and watched it happen.

Mum was not my mum. she didnt even have enough of a brain to think for herself. every descision was my grans, everything that my gran did was accepted.

Now, mum knows that she didn't protect me (not from me, from her own therapy), but instead of talking in an adult way, it is all 'i was a bad mother' 'oh what a bad person i am' 'i had a bad homelife'... not once has she really listened to me - she expects me to feel sorry for her, to congratulate her when she has a 'big' revelation - too be there understanding her, to carry on hating my gran like she does, too listen to her therapy tales.
It makes me angry.
I am not there to be her therapist - i am not there to hold her hand - i am not there to rub it better, and pick her up.
I am her daughter, not her therapist, and NOT her mother.

I know i sound horrible, but it is how i am feeling - maybe a bit bitter. if she had have been there for me, maybe i would wish to be there for her a bit more. but she wasn't. she isn't. i cant even ask her about stuff because she just goes off on a 'what a bad mum' rant.

I suppose, also, i am annoyed that she thinks she had it so bad - yes, my grandparents are crap, but she wasn't bullied at school constantly. she may have had home issues, but i had both school, and home - so excuse me if i dont want to be laying on the 'oh poor you's think and fast.

I know i am judging her - i know you cant ever judge a persons pain - but really, i am the one that has ended up with a bag full of mental health problems to deal with.

so yes, tough day - i have cried so much my eyes are hurting.

i was hoping mike would be around, but he's not, and i dont know when il see him again :s not the best feeling in the world when im feeling lonley and crap.

I really dont have friends around that i can hang out with - i wish that wasn't always the case :( x

To a dear friend...

I wish it could have been different for both of us.
I wish i'd stayed in touch, and been there to pick you up.
I wish that you would never have needed me to talk to.
I wish that we didn't share the understanding we have with each other - because it means that we are both far more damaged then any person should ever be.

You were a close friend - we had a good time - you were there for me when things were bad at home, I was around for you when you needed to rant, to talk about subjects that no one else knew even existed for you.

We both have similarities - we both were bullied (badly), we both self harmed, we both had abusive relationships, we both had issues with family - and, although maybe i knew to an extent, today i found out that you too, have had issues with an eating disorder.

I knew when we were close, that too an extent you struggled - but it was at the level where it didn't warrent treatment on the NHS - it was on the level, that only someone who had one, would ever pick up on it.
When i went away (5 years ago), thats where you were at - i found it hard to stay in touch, your ME was still bad, and found it equally hard to stay in touch. We drifted.

Today is the first time i have seen you since then - i am so glad we met up, i really am.
But maybe, i am also sad.

I am sad you are struggling so much (being now a 'healthy weight', but with thoughts still dominating your head) - and maybe i am sadder that i understand your struggle so very very well.
When you speak, it is like talking to a slightly younger me - i understand the way your thoughts are going - i understand why it is so hard to give it up - i understand how impossible it feels.
Worse still, I can not tell you that it will all be ok.

I have been a healthy weight for almost 3 years i think - yet every day is still a struggle.
My daily mantra is 'I can start loosing weight tomorrow', 'tomorrow you can start fixing yourself'.
Every day, i still think about food - sure, i may have the odd meal when i dont mind it, sometimes i have the thoughts and can 'talk back' too them, sometimes i can look in a mirror, and not detest my reflection. But other times, other times I still want to crawl out of my skin because i feel so disgusting. Other times, i cry myself to sleep, because i just dont want to keep fighting anymore - I am so very very tired of it.

So, it makes me sad that i can not make the world right for you.
It makes me sad that I can not fix the things I have never been able to fix for myself.
All I can do, is try too keep in touch - and let you come too me, so that once more, we can pick each other up.

direction!

Well, the summer has been absolutly mental!

I 'moved home' tho in honesty, have barley been back longer then a week at a time!

I did kentwell for 2 weeks (for those of you who dont know, i do tudor reenactment!) This year, dressed as a posh gentry girl, so i spent 2 weeks sewing, dancing, learning the viol and singing! (and perhaps drinking much by the campfire afterdark).

I then went to Dartington for 2 weeks, which is a music course down in Totnes (Devon), where i did lots and lots of early music and recorder stuff.
I found it very challenging, particularly as, due to my last bout of depression (from may onward), i hadn't really touched my recorders, nor had motivation to do anything.

I suppose even at the best of times, depression zaps all motivation and self worth.
This last bout made me question weather music is really what i should be doing - or rather, really weather im even capable of doing it.

I was very seriously considering packing it in - maybe it wasnt for me, maybe il never be good enough - maybe its not worth the hassel.

Dartington made me have to tackle that head on - i was thrown into masterclass situations (playing in front of people to be picked apart by tutors in public), playing with people who, in my head, were far beyond me. I had to do countless sessions of chamber music, sight reading and keeping up with the others. I had to do several concerts - all of which were on very little preparation (we are talking being asked a day or 2 in advance).

I spent the first day crying in private because i was petrified of being around so many new people - i had panic attacks. I spent many evenings on the phone to my boyfriend freaking out about 'not being good enough' or 'not being able to socialize'.
But - i stuck out the 2 weeks.

It was good for me really - it gave me time to think about things - things i hadnt even realised i did.
almost everyone i played with picked up on my confidence issues - and the fact i say sorry stupid amounts of times every time i play with people (one girl, who is an amazing player, and lovely was trying to help me with it - and stoped counting after i said it for the 10th time in a 5 minute session) - i even got threatened by one of my tutors with 'every time you say sorry, your buying me a drink'... i think i owe him quite a few!

I suppose that has made me question why im apologizing - and also making me realize, that if i want to be a confident player, that i have to stop being sorry for taking up space - i should be just as entitled to space as any other person! (ha, that's a royal F***K YOU to anorexia)

One of my other tutors also took the time out to have a drink with me, and chat about stuff. She asked many good questions - the most important being 'Why are you doing music?' and 'Do you really want to give it up because you dont like it, or is it just that your worried you wont succeed?'... that hits the nail on the head.

If i give it up now - i will be giving it up because im too scared to try and suceed.
I will be giving it up because im letting the 'I'm not good enough' voice take over.
I will be letting all the people who told me i was crap, or made me feel stupid, win.

I cant give it up - because i will always wonder weather, if i kept on trying, i could have gotten somewhere - weather i could ever have kept up with the people i trained with. weather i could ever have become 'good enough' for myself.

On the back of that realisation, i have started to make some changes.
The tutor who chatted to me, made the very accurate statement, that what is missing, is my confidence - and to have confidence, i need a strong and solid technique (as currently, i know what i want to do, but don't have the technique to do it!

So, with the help from my boyfriend (who i asked to help me), i am aiming for practice as follows...
1 hour a day, 6 days a week, with at least an extra 3 hours - totaling 9 hours minimum during the week.
He has also promised me a special present, if i get an extra 25 hours in before christmas!
This in its self, shouldn't be an issue, as i would like to be doing 2 hours a day, 6 days a week - at least.
I have decided, on my tutors instruction, to dedicate at least 45 min per day purely to technical practice.

Today, i went to my teacher (the one at college), as she owed me 2 hours that i didn't take at the end of last year - i paid for an extra 2 hours, but spent from 12-6 at hers having a full on day of lessons! Bloody hard work - but really good - this is the first time iv gotten on with her in a long time - and she really noticed how much iv changed in the way im working :)

I also did a Baroque dance course last week - which was great - too think, i have only been doing it 2 years - and i was doing the advanced dances, and one of the more confident people in the class - many positive comments, many people trying to get a spot behind me too copy me! - it is one place i feel proud of myself - because i have come a bloody long way, and boy, can i dance ;)

I do unfortunatly have all of my assignments and my recital to do in the 1st week of September - due to taking time out last term i basically have most of last years assessments to do!

I hope to God, that my depression sorts its self out soon, and doesn't keep coming back - i dont want my life ruled by it, or by PTSD, or self harm, or an eating disorder ever again - I want to get myself well, so that i can get on with my life.

baby steps have turned into bigguns

Well, I had to figure out the dates i was in hospital today - and so i returned here, as i had written about it.
I haven't written in quite some time. hospital (daycare, and IP) were almost 3 years ago now i think - and things are different. different, but not perfect.

I have been a healthy weight since - iv varied a substantial amount, up n down, but never back to where i was. I dont like it, i still struggle - but on good days, i dont think so much on it, and on bad days, rather then starving all day, or purging 7 times a day, i just struggle with the thoughts - and maybe restrict to 1000 kcal, rather then the 0-500 i used too.
The restricting days also do not last - i may have a day or two, but then something may pull me back, or dare i say it, sometimes i just can not be bothered to act on them!

 I suppose its odd to look back on - since i was 12 i have been on and off with food, and from 17-21/2 life was just one big bit of eating disorder - thats over half my life taken up with it - and i never thought i would change.
 I have changed a bit - enough to keep me out of hospital and to allow me to have some social life - which really is quite a big thing.

Things are different, unfortunately giving up my ED, and self harm has uncovered what i was using my 'creative adjustment' for. I am diagnosed with dysthymia (along with episodes of major depression), PTSD, an ED and self harm, along with significant struggles in relationships.

 I have been in and out of therapy since i was 17, and am only just finding the right help. I have been referred to Group therapy for a day a week - it is actually a group for people with 'personality disorders, and/or multiple complex needs'. I do not have a personality disorder, but i do have massive issues in trusting people, and making friendships etc (largely due to school) which are fairly similar traits to those with personality disorders.

when i first started it - or rather the 'pre group group' i thought it was a joke - i hated it, i didn't want to do it, i didn't think it would be useful.
I did 3 months of that, and in june, i started the real group - and having got used to it, i am actually some what surprised in how helpful it can be.

the help i was given before, was just ED focused - but my ED was never really the main problem - i used that to cope with the anxiety, pain and fear that was (and is) in my every day life (which is why everyone was so confused that i wasn't better yet). I had not noticed how much my past effected me, until now - usually that would upset me, but i suppose this is the first time that i have felt like *maybe* some of this therapy may actually help me get into a better mental space.
*maybe*

 one of the girls in group left on Wednesday - having completed her 18 months - it is sad, i really really got on with her (and we are not aloud to stay in touch outside of group), but she has been a huge inspiration to me. she is not 100% sorted im sure, but she is so much more sorted then i could ever dream of, and by all accounts, she started off in possibly a worse way then me!

A few years ago - i had no hope at all.
4 months ago, my depression was yet again bad enough for me to feel pretty suicidal - im still not great, but im picking up the peaces.
Today, even tho im struggling a lot, i have a glimmer of light. maybe, in 18 months, or even 18 years.

maybe, i will be different.