Or maybe it just means I’m fat.
I’m in California with him right now. Earlier I was lying in bed next to him. I’ve never felt so alone while being so close to someone.
I’m not up to typing everything that’s going on, but I feel so, so alone. I can’t stop crying.
Today (technically yesterday now) was the anniversary of my sister’s death. It was a hard day.
Yesterday, still sick from my overdose, I didn’t eat and spent most of the day in bed.
Today, I still wasn’t up to eating, but my mom made me some food midday without me asking (she knew I wasn’t feeling well) and I felt I should try to eat it. I got some of it down, but it made me very sick.
I’m still nauseous. I don’t know if it’s from the pills or the not eating or what.
These came in the mail this evening:
And after that hypocritical PSA…
I know you’re not supposed to combine things like this, especially when you’re on medications, but that never seems to stop me. Especially when I’m in my extreme states of apathy, one of which I find myself in today. I just honestly don’t care if something bad happens.
My one hope is just that by the time November 18th comes around next year, I won’t be here to see it.
Last night I took half a bottle of effexor.
Last night I couldn’t sleep because of the pain.
Last night I was so nauseous I wanted to tear out my stomach.
This morning the pain had subsided substantially, but I was still nauseous, and with that came dizziness, shaking, weakness, blurred vision, fatigue, and so much more.
I’m too sick to eat, and even sipping liquids are hard.
I don’t know what I was trying to accomplish. Whatever it was, I don’t think I succeeded.
I’m overdosed on effexor last night. It wasn’t a fun night. It’s not a fun morning. More to come.
He buys me stuff all the time.
Groceries. Gifts. Toiletries.
Today he got me some gifts. Just now, I stumbled across the receipt. It was a lot of money.
I feel guilty. I feel like I’m using him to get things. I feel manipulative. I feel like I’m stealing. I feel like I don’t deserve these things.
I feel cheap. It makes be wonder at which point do I cross the line into prostitution?
It doesn’t help that I hate it. It doesn’t help that I disassociate when he touches me. It doesn’t help that I feel like a doll in his hands, there only to receive him and help him achieve pleasure. It doesn’t help that the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach.
My anxiety has gotten really bad lately. I don’t go anywhere. I make plans to do things with people, and then cancel.
I feel like I can’t call it off. I feel like I owe him too much, financially. I feel like I owe him my body because of how much he’s paid for and bought me. I don’t think I can ever make up that deficit, so I don’t think I can ever leave.
The 3 year anniversary of my sister’s death is on Tuesday.
Three years and I still don’t know how to get past it.
I still can’t think of her without falling apart. I still don’t know how to deal with the pain. I still hate this time of year. The anniversary of her death, Thanksgiving, Christmas, her birthday.
I decided to go online and look for a grief workbook.
I couldn’t even do that without crying.
I feel so stuck. And broken.
I’m going on vacation in just over a week. To California.
I’m freaking out internally. We’re going to the beach. I love to swim, but I don’t normally just hang out in a swimsuit. I’m terrified and nervous and kind of sick to my stomach.
On the flip side, though, I’m looking forward to the “vacation weight”. Many people complain of gaining weight over vacation. I always lose on vacation.
While on vacation, I tend to eat every meal with others, which means there’s always someone there to see me eat, which means I hardly eat. And since I tend to be around people A LOT while on vacation, I’m much less likely to binge and purge. After a week of near-fasting, I always come home lighter.
I’m looking forward to that.