Figuring it out

My therapist asked me this question last week:

“Do you think you could have some unspoken rule that sex and feelings can’t exist in the same place at the same time? It’s ok if you don’t even know, but maybe try and think about it a bit.”
This post is going to go all over the place in lots of directions that to me currently feel unrelated. But maybe they are deep down. I dont know yet. 
I texted sam “i dont even have a totally valid reason for why i still do it anymore” (referring to purging)

I tried to analyze myself while i was doing it. I think i like that relaxed feeling i get at the end. I think i do it for that mostly. Feeling empty and calm afterwards is nice. Cleansing. I’m sure there could be healthier ways to achieve it but that’s what i have right now that works. 

I want to pick up running but im nervous about it. Maybe even scared. I think maybe because I don’t fully believe i could do it. Not like it’s actually possible to fail at running but i dont know. I’m still nervous. And about dumb parts too. Like about people on the street judging me. Which why would they even do that. And why does their opinion matter anyway. And if they’re judging me doesnt that just make them ridiculous? 

I’m also nervous about my lung. Running would force me to feel the only reminder of my disease. And i dont know how much is good to “push through the pain”. You’re supposed to stop when it hurts but I don’t know if that rule still applies to this? 

There’s a lookout about six blocks from my sisters house. I could easily run/walk there every morning if i wanted to once i moved in. Get up early. See the sunrise every morning. I think i can see myself doing that.

Housesitting for emily while shes been gone on business this summer has got me kind of freaked out about moving in in three weeks. I don’t know how i can handle it in reality. We just have different standards for living. She’s used to and ok with the mess that comes with three dogs and a cat in a two bed two bath house. I’m not. I don’t really want to be “used to it”. I have higher standards for cleanlieness.

I’ll be honest i made myself vomit before writing this post and im starting to shake from the empty. I’m having trouble typing and want to get more food but i dont think i will. I almost have gained 10 pounds this summer because i havent really been restricting or puking until this week. Which i think is because ive been stressed out about emilys house. And living here. 

I dont know how much responsibility she expects me to take for the animals. I don’t really want to take any. I mean i love them but at the end of the day they aren’t mine. And i just. I’m not a person who can handle taking care of other living creatures shit. I find feeding them a hassle and letting them out and having to pay attention to them when they want me to. I’m not an ideal pet owner. At all.

And i want to be able to have a senior year. And that means making that 1 hour roundtrip drive back to my hometown on a semi regular basis. And not worring about being home in time to feed dogs because emily is also out doing something that night.

I guess im just worried because i dont completely know what it is she’s expecting from me. And we haven’t had to really communicate like this before so I’m scared because even though i KNOW she’s different, she still was raised in the same family i was and im worried that trying to talk to her could be the same. (I have serious faith deep down it would be fine but im stilk worried, ya know?)

And i was rewatching gossip girl today and the episode where Serena and Dan have sex for the first time kinda got to me and got me thinking about what my therapist asked because of how serena tells dan “I’m just scared… because no guy has ever looked at me the way you just did”

And i know exactly what she’s talking about. And i dont know if i have that rule that i cant have sex and have feelings. I think the idea of that freaks me out. I think imagining that makes me nervous.

I think what i want at the end of the day is to have someone steady to come home to but still be allowed to mess around on the side and have fun with other people. I think that’s my ideal scenario. But i dont know exactly where or how to find a person who could check all my boxes like that. 

And sam and i talked the other day about if we “think we’re just prolonging the inevitable [us dating]?” Becuase our relationship is pretty much exactly what I’d want from a true partner but i dont want to date him. Because im not in that mindset of serious relationship yet. And because i dont know that that attraction really exists towards him. He said he figured we could be. That maybe some day twenty years down the line if we were still close something could happen, but he agreed that right now that… spark i guess? Just isn’t there. He said he figured our relationship was just pure companionship, referring to the triangle of relationships, and how we have the foundations of the triangle but not the tip. 

And my friend savanna i feel so comfortable around. And we kiss each other on a regular basis and we call each other our girlfriends and hold hands and cuddle sometimes and say that were in love with each other while at the same time messing around with guys and telling each other all about it and i really like that. And it’s probably about a third joking and two thirds serious, if not more. And sometimes i wonder about what if we were really actually like that? What if we were in a commited lesbian relationship and still fooled around with others on the side? It doesn’t really sound all that bad. Coming home to that beautiful girl and getting to lay in bed with her and look at her and make her smile? Hold her hand? Kiss her? It sounds lovely. 

But the having sex aspect of that kind of weirds me out. I think mostly because im worried about things getting ruined. And also i dont know that thats what she wants (probably a good sign i should just buck up and ask, eh?)

Sex has only ever ruined my relationships with the people. I guess maybe this is just another narrative i have to try and rewrite, cuz so far I’d say I’ve done pretty good with the whole “guys only ever want me for sex” trope. But maybe i just also haven’t met the right person yet. I don’t know.

There’s lots I don’t know about yet. That’s ok. And probably also the way it should be. I’ll get it figured out. I’m just a bit stressed and lonely right now i guess.

Chat later.

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I took the maximum number of laxitive suggested. I feel sick. My stomach feels hot and i feel clamy and like i could puke. 

I gained four pounds this week from being bloated and on my period and not being again to handle my cravings.

All i eat when i do eat is total crap. Junk. Chocolate. Hot dogs (because thats the only food we have in the house). Cheese. 

Thats basically it. But this week i added doughnut holes and mac and cheese because my cramps were so bad i couldnt walk and i woke up at 2am.

I might be subconsciously avoiding my therapist. 

Its scary thinking about working on this. About changing my habits. Yeah i dont like my current methods but its all i have. Its all ive ever had really. And i dont know how to change or get better or what it looks like or if i even can.

And chole and her boyfriend just think im the stereotypical angsty teen whos angry for no reason. He isnt even a part of this family and he gets to quip in with the sardonic comments about how i “look too happy”

I dont know. Its one thing for them to not protect me from each other, but letting an outsider in on it… 

it just doesn’t help anything. It just makes me feel even more of the misfit than i normally do. I know i have a lot of myself to blame for that but he hasn’t even been around a year and its like im the one who should be the stranger in my own house. At Christmas and still today. He fits better than me. 

Ive been secretly hoping maybe i get an ulcer or something. Something to force me to work on my problems for real. But i dont know. 

It gets lonely. I love writing but talking into this virtual notebook gets lonely sometimes. Like right now. I feel like a deflated balloon most of the time.

unforgiving

there’s a solid mass of food sitting in the pit of my stomach

My ears are ringing like windchimes.

i don’t seem to know my limits

cuz i’ve pushed these lines of “healthy” so far out of bounds a few too many times

i do it so often now that i tend to not realize when i’m in it.

the bile leaves my throat raw and numb,

colors the water pale brown,

leaves my mouth sore and glum.

my body’s tired from retching over the cold, porcelain toilet seat.

oftentimes i forget what it’s like not feeling as though

I’m some rotting piece of meat.

I don’t remember what it’s like to not put on this show;

What’s it like to not be playing pretend?

How can I flip this switch and to start to make some amends?

Feeling vs Eating

I eat feelings the way others eat their food.

Only not in the way of processing through them,

Gaining nutrients they may give.

No, more in the way of violently chewing,

Munching down and mashing them between my teeth

Until they become so small and scattered and mixed

That they dont even have the feel or appearance of emotion.

I stuff it down deep in my stomach

Eat it fast and bury it under other things.

So that to me they no longer exist.

I eat feelings in the way others eat their food.

Spit out the mashed up bits and rearrange them until i can more easily and clearly process them with as little work as possible.

So that when i swallow them they go down easy.

Softly. Smoothly. Quickly.