Childhood dreams

"I'm looking for a way to become

The person that I dreamt of

When I was sixteen" 

Do you ever think back to who you dreamt you would become when you grew up? I don't necessarily mean what your dream job was, a firefighter, a princess, whatever, but more what kind of person you dreamt of being. Who did you picture yourself growing up into?

Personally, I didn't dream of being like this. I mean, I must seem ungrateful because I have so much to be proud of and happy for, and I do try to remember those things, but I know that this isn't quite who I hoped I would be. Never had I imagined that I would become a girl bowed down in front of a porcelain bowl. Or a girl who's pain was just exploding out of her. 

In all honesty though, I always sort of knew that I would die young. I always had this inkling that I would become very ill or die of suicide. I never imagined that I would fail at it, though. 

Since I was little, I've felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. In the darkness and warmth of my bed at night, I would cry for all those suffering in the world; tears would stream down my face for the hungry, the poor, the cold, the people that died in Nazi concentration camps, the lost, refugees, the victims of genocide... At a very young age, I was aware of how painful the world is and I would just cry for all of those who couldn't. 

But I never dreamt of the day where I would be too drained to go to school. Of the day where the pain overwhelmed me and I had to seek help. Of the day that I leaned against others for strength. In my most perfect dreams of myself, I would be the one who saved the world. Naive? Yes. But hopeful, idealistic, wishful? Always. 

Now, I've lost all faith. Not only do I not believe that the world is capable of changing, not only am I cynical and jaded and tired, I also feel as though I will never make it somewhere worth being. I plow through each day as best I can, but, more often than not, I'm not quite sure why. My brain is a hyper-rational place to be, and it is just incapable of understanding what the purpose of this is. To go to heaven? I've stopped believing that a long time ago and I wouldn't want to spend eternity anywhere anyways. To transmit our genes for the continuation of the species? I have no intention of bringing children into this world. And, either way, we are such insignificant specks in all the ever-expanding vastness. I've been told that this view is called nihilism. Perhaps. 

But then, on the other hand, I get anxious over the smallest things. If everything is insignificant and has no purpose or meaning, these specks of nothing should not give me anxiety, correct? But they do. So I am just left feeling more confused than ever. 

All I know is that I feel terribly disappointed in myself, always. I aspired to be so much more than I am now or that I ever will be. The years at which I hit my "prime", at which life was at its peak, were from the age of 16 to 18. Now, they're over. Which is what I've told everyone with regards to my attempt at ending my life; if I reached my peak and it's only downhill from here, what exactly is the point of carrying on? 

But now, if I was not even able to end this life, what does that say about me? Not only do I fail at living, but I even fail at dying, which is essentially all anyone is doing anyways. Basically, I failed at the only absolute thing that is inherent to all living things. Dying. So where does that leave me

All my love,

Lena xx

The blanket

My emotions have been a huge mess lately and I definitely feel as though I am slipping back into depression. It's like someone is pulling the nice warm and comfy blanket I had covering me right off and I'm left naked and freezing, exposed to the world, desperately trying to claw at that blanket before it is completely pulled away. As you can imagine, I don't like it.

The shrink appointment was difficult. I was interviewed for half the session by a resident, then for the other half by both the resident and her supervisor. The goal of this appointment was just to evaluate me and decide on the next plan of action, and I will not ever be seeing these people again, I don't think. Which is part of the reason why it made it so difficult to just spill my guts to them. On top of it, I know exactly why they are asking certain questions, what they are evaluating, so it becomes a huge challenge for me to not just accidentally lie or exaggerate things. I also had to avoid them thinking that I was having some sort of psychosis, which I'm pretty sure the supervisor thought I was having at one point because I wasn't looking at them. I mean, is it such a crime to not want to look at two people while talking about my life?

All in all, they made the diagnosis of episodes of major depressive disorder over a background of dysthymia that has been ongoing for at least 2 and a half years. Also, on top of that, the bulimia nervosa, which I had never really been diagnosed with officially and, though I tried to explain that it seems like something more physiological than psychological, they weren't having any of it. So those are my current 3 official diagnoses. They were also unclear as to whether or not I have borderline personality disorder, because I do exhibit some of the symptoms but not all.

For the course of treatment, they've decided that I will be put on fluoxetine (Prozac) for both the mood disorders and the bulimia, as well as back on trazodone for sleep. They'll also be referring me to the psychiatric service for regular visits with a professional, and they are recommending a full workup (blood, etc.) as well as regular weigh-ins (which are pointless since my weight never goes down into dangerous territory, if it does go down at all). They also want me to self-refer to the one specialized ED clinic for outpatient treatment, but the waiting list is very long. In the meantime, they are recommending a self-help book (yeah, like I have the time/energy/interest to read that...).

So there you have it, folks, the freak show.

Today, I got up in a crisis from lack of sleep, cried excessively, yelled at my mom, and decided to just skip school entirely and go back to sleep. Because I'd be missing two mandatory activities, I lied to the Faculty and to some classmates about an uncle dying. I know, I'm a horrible person. I feel guilty and, at the same time, I don't. Sometimes, I feel like I'm a compulsive liar or a sociopath or something. I don't know. Am I a terrible person? What do you guys think? I just feel like such a loser lately, like I really am losing control of my life, running too fast on a treadmill. Balance and stability are what I've been aiming for, but I seem so far off target that I'm not quite sure how to get back. Hence the blanket being pulled away. How do I keep it together?

It's almost the weekend, ladies, let's stay strong!

All my love,

Lena xx

Shrinks galore

Tomorrow I have an appointment, a consult, with yet another shrink. This appointment was supposed to happen months ago when I came back from Singapore, but I had to get my documents released from the last shrink I saw back in January. I'm so incredibly tired of meeting people for an hour, having to divulge all of my life, my struggles, my deepest secrets, so that they can analyze me and decide, within 50 minutes, exactly what's wrong with me. I know that I'm seriously messed up. I'm already aware of that. I don't need some specialist to tell me this. I've seen so many psychiatrists and psychologists and counselors in the last year and a half, that I've lost count. I've been diagnosed with almost a dozen personality, mood and behavioral disorders. I've been on medication after medication, with so many side-effects. I'm just tired. Of all of it. Yes, part of me wants to feel better; but another part has just accepted that I never will. And that's ok too. 

I've just been down these past few weeks. And, yesterday, I saw a lot of old high school friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in 3 or 4 years. It's all just made me realize how unwell I am. How lonely I am. How, while everyone is changing and evolving, I'm just stuck in the same rut I've been in for over 2 years and a half. On the outside, I look like I've really got it all figured out. These people look at me and see someone whose life is pretty much perfect. No one could even guess that I tried to die this summer. Or how every single day is a battle. Isn't that amazing? How we can be looking right at someone but never know who they truly are?

I wish you all a wonderful start to this new week.

All my love,

Lena xx

The gala

A post is long overdue, but I've just been really busy. Finding time and energy has been a challenge.

So, what happened at the gala?

Arriving late, I was kind of left out of my normal group of soccer friends/acquaintances as D. was there talking to everyone. She was being her "public self", which is was I call her when she's trying too hard and being overly exuberant and enthusiastic. I just hung back, not really talking to anyone, until a couple of my friends came over. They decided to leave the table they had originally set up at (with D.) to come to my table as I was all alone. That was nice of them and we had an OK evening, though I was extremely anxious the whole time. D. kept looking over at me from across the room, I felt very isolated, there was too much food, I was so tired... On top of it, I had to submit my paper that night before midnight, and I hadn't sent it in yet. The food was making me feel so sick, but, when I went to the bathroom, one of the girls followed me so I couldn't throw up. I wasn't quite sure why, but I just kept feeling more and more anxious and isolated so, as soon as all the awards were given, I decided to leave. I said bye to my table and made my way to the other table where D. was, because I hadn't gotten the chance to speak to anyone there and I wanted to say goodbye. Also, D.'s sister was there and had won an award, so I wanted to congratulate her. As we had spent the whole weekend together for the referee course a few weeks ago and had had a good time, I thought that she'd be happy to see me. 

As D. saw me approaching her table, she pulled her phone out and started playing with it, "texting" or whatever. I was trying to speak to her sister, but I could tell that D. had said something to her because, though she seemed happy and excited to see me, she quickly "realized her mistake" I suppose and became distant. Regardless, I congratulated her on her award and said that I liked her dress. Without looking up, D. blurted out "I picked it". I said, "Well, good choice, it's very nice, where did you get it?", which she ignored and I had to repeat myself. She answered, not looking up. The whole time, I felt like that loser kid in the movies that no one likes and who tries to talk to people but they mostly pretend that he/she isn't there. I felt awful. I decided to leave, but, just then, D. got up and handed me a bag, saying that it was a birthday gift that she had ordered for me in May but that had only just arrived. Not feeling comfortable accepting it, I tried to politely decline, but she insisted that I keep it, saying that it had my name on it so she couldn't return or keep it. I went outside, realized that it was a rain jacket with my name on it, and went back in, offering to reimburse her for it. Basically, the whole thing was incredibly uncomfortable because she was looking away, playing with her phone, avoiding eye contact. I just couldn't understand why she was making things so difficult. I had hoped that she and I could just talk casually and politely, like acquaintances. I ended up leaving, feeling somehow ashamed and worthless, crying and throwing up when I got home. 

(There was also a lot of stress with my paper on eating disorders, as I had to exclude all of my research on anorexia because it was way too long. If any of you still want to read it regardless, please leave your email address and I'll be sure to send it to you. Again, it's pretty technical and research/biology oriented, so it may not appeal to everyone.)

The next day, I texted her, thanking her for the gift and saying that it was nice to see her, but that I didn't feel that it was right to accept, so if she could please tell me how much it was, I would reimburse her for it. It took her about a day to answer, and I dropped off a cheque at her father's house.

After that, I started to feel bad. I mean, what if bringing the gift to the gala had been some sort of peace offering and she had just been uncomfortable? She very well could have just dropped the gift off at my parents' house and she wouldn't have had to talk to me at all. What if she had brought it to get the chance to talk to me? It was possible that I had just misread her signs, and I really did miss her...

So, on Tuesday, I decided to text her. Here is our exact conversation. The first message is mine.

-Hey, I was just wondering if ever you might like to go grab a coffee sometime..?

-Thanks for the invite but I'm not interested. Maybe another time.

-Well, I meant anytime we're both free, not necessarily today.

-Yeah, I'm not interested.

-Ah. Can I ask why?

-I'm just not interested.

-I thought that you bringing the gift to the gala was a gesture of good faith or something, a way to reach out.

-I brought the gift because I ordered it in May and it only just arrived and I have no use for a jacket that has your name on it.

-I understand that. But you could've just dropped it off at my parents' house. I thought that you bringing it in person was a way to reach out.

-Sorry to mislead you. That was not my intention.

-I'm a bit unclear about something, so, purely out of curiosity, what exactly are you mad at me about?

I don't mean this in a confrontational way, I just genuinely don't know.

-I'm not mad and I don't want to pursue this conversation.

-Well, that's the thing. If you aren't mad and I'm not mad and we were friends for so long and saw each other through a lot and were really good friends, I just thought we could have coffee to catch up. Because you were an important part of my life and I of yours, it just seems a shame to completely burn bridges. I'm not suggesting that we pick up where we left off, just that we grab coffee like two people who knew each other, not to hash things up or kiss and make up. Purely to catch up. Nothing more or less.

-Maybe sometime in the future, but as I said, I'm not interested.

-I'm just not sure what that means.

-It means that I don't want to have coffee and catch up with you at this point in my life.

-I don't understand why.

I understand your decision and respect it, and I won't ask you again, but I would just like to understand why.

She never answered that last one. I know that you are probably reading this and cringing because I am just so incredibly pathetic. You have to understand, though, that I'm honestly hyper-rational, and it's really challenging for me to let go when things make absolutely no sense to me. Some of my friends call me a robot sometimes, because I literally cannot comprehend irrational things most of the time. So this, for example, just makes no sense at all to me. Especially considering that I didn't actually do anything to her. She did it to me. 

Anyways, I feel like a complete loser re-reading this. I know that I seem desperate and stupid and weak, but I just wanted tor each out. I guess that I just have to let go. 

I'm sorry for this really random post and I'm sorry that I've been writing so poorly recently, especially since it's all been about really mundane and redundant things. I know that it's incredibly lengthy and boring and that you all just want me to get over it. So I'm sorry.

Tuesday was also my 1-year anniversary with Dan. I didn't think that we should celebrate since we were broken up for over 3 months, but he insisted and it was absolutely lovely. I was worried that I'd ruin it since I ruined Valentine's day last year, but I luckily didn't.

I apologize again for this completely dull post, and I hope that you all have a great week.

All my love,

Lena xx
P.S. Thank you for your lovely comments on my last post. Sam, I think that it is absolutely hilarious that you think that I have thin legs because they are the number one fattest part of me that I'd trade in a second, but thanks for the laugh.

Happy Halloween!

Welcome to my new followers and happy Halloween!

Things have not been going so great, but I'll write about this later. I just wanted to quickly wish you all a great day. I love Halloween but, unfortunately, I will be stuck writing this important review article on the pharmacology of eating disorders. It's actually pretty interesting to learn and write about, but I would have liked to be able to do something tonight. Anyways, if any of you would like to take a read once I'm done, ask and I'll send it to you, no problem. You do sort of need a science background though because I'm dealing with all the neurotransmitters and receptors involved. 

In other news, Dan and I are now official again. And he told me that he loves me. I (sort of) said it back this weekend, but it is a big struggle for me. I don't quite understand love, what it means, what it's supposed to feel like. I didn't grow up being told that I was loved, my parents (especially my dad) never say it to me unless it's like mandatory (in a birthday card, for example), so I don't really know anything about it. Try explaining this to someone, though, and things get messy. Anyways, I'll be doing a post of Dan and on sexuality soon because I'm really struggling and I want to get it off my chest. Also, I've been crying constantly. It's such a foreign thing to me because, before my Nonno's funeral in June, I was too numb to cry at all. Now, in the past few days, I've been crying multiple times per day and having to stop myself from crying in public. Maybe it's just exhaustion (tons of people in my class have been randomly bursting into tears this week), maybe it was PMS (I just got my period yesterday), but I'm really worried that it's depression creeping back in. I mean, I never "lived" my depression this way, it was much more numb, but I know that one of the symptoms can be unexplained crying or the urge to cry. I don't know.

Tomorrow night, I have this soccer gala thing that I go to every year. It's to thank the volunteers and, because I'm a coach, I am always invited. However, I feel really anxious about it this year because, first, I hardly coached because of my Nonno, then Singapore, then the huge fallout with D. So I feel guilty going because I don't feel like a "true" coach/volunteer. Also, D. will be there (probably). I haven't seen her since August, haven't spoken to her in weeks. I've been thinking about her all week, good things, bad things, just wanting to cry every time. I'm filled with regret and guilt and anger and feeling like this all must somehow be my fault. I don't know. Dan is telling me to just completely ignore her tomorrow, but I can't do that for many reasons, one of which is that we'll probably be seated at the same table. Another reason that I'm anxious for this gala is that a lot of our mutual soccer and referee friends will be there, and a lot of them have "coincidentally" stopped speaking to me after this fallout with D. It really hurts me, because I made a point of not telling anyone at all that we had had a falling out, but I'm realizing that she has been talking badly to me to our mutual friends, I know this because these people have stopped contacting me and have stopped inviting me to parties and events. I find it so hurtful, especially considering that no one asked me what had happened. These are not my closest friends, thank God, but they are still people that I saw regularly and hung out with at parties. It just stings. So, all this to say that I'm sort of regretting RSVP-ing to this gala tomorrow. Maybe I shouldn't go. There is a mass for my Nonno's death tomorrow night as well. I don't know what to do. At the same time, I want to go to the gala and look strong and beautiful and like I've got it all under control no matter what anyone says or does to me. But I don't know whether I am truly strong enough to do it...

Anyways, this was meant to be a short post, but I guess I ended up having a lot to get off my chest. Here are a couple of pictures, in honor of All Hallow's Eve. The first is a pumpkin I carved of an anatomically correct heart. The second is just one of me rocking some Halloween colors today.

Have a great day!

All my love,

Lena xx

Clarification

Again, this won't be a proper post as I'm just writing this between classes. I promise that I'll get to it asap.

First off, just a huge welcome to my new followers, it's so flattering, as always. (Though it does make me feel a little anxious to think that I now have to "perform" or something... Make things interesting in some way...)

Secondly, just a clarification concerning my last post, because some of the comments made me feel as though there was a bit of confusion. I have never been nervous about mental health lectures before and have always found them very interesting. They don't make me sad or stressed or anything normally. It's just that now, just a few months I was "ill" (this is code for "tried to seriously hurt myself", which is also code for attempted suicide and was hospitalized in a foreign country for 10 days, all of which is very difficult for me to say), these lectures are difficult for me to sit in on. This is partly due to the fact that I'm still having flashbacks from that event, from the hospital, from everything, so I spend most of my time pushing those thoughts out of my head/being in denial. Also, I always feel as though the lectures are describing me, which is a bit unnerving. It is also partially because I hate hearing people talk about things that they have never ever experienced first hand. The lecturers are usually ok, because they have obviously been exposed to these situations, but my peers aren't. In between lectures on mental illness, they judge and analyze and pretend to understand when they don't. They talk about how "Yeah, sometimes I double-check if the door is locked, God I'm crazy" and "Once I imagined hanging myself and got so scared that I immediately stopped and saw a therapist for a year because I was so concerned". And I just can't deal with it. We had a Small Group on overdose and their level of ignorance was driving me insane. I have overdosed. I am/was sick. I have experienced all of this first-hand. I don't feel superior, I just feel as though they will never adequately grasp what they are talking about and I really wish that they would stop pretending to.

Anyways, I just thought that maybe my last post warranted this clarification. I hope that you are all having a lovely day.

Love,

Lena xx

P.S. Dan is meeting me for lunch and I have a feeling that he will be telling me that he loves me, and I find this so incredibly terrifying because I have absolutely no idea how to reply to that sort of thing... But this is definitely a story for another time.

This won't be a proper post (I feel as though I haven't written a proper one in a while, and I have so much to say, it's kind of annoying...). I just wanted to say that I'm waiting for class to start, and there is going to be a lecture on psychopathology and suicide this morning. I don't know if I can sit through it. I don't know. I'm actually terrified.

I hope you all had a lovely weekend.

All my love,

Lena xx

P.S. I'm still waiting on my exam results. I just really hope I passed. Thank you all for your kind words and well-wishing last week.