Thursday, April 15, 2010

Therapy, Grad & Boozing to Numb

In that order, no less. Sorry I've not posted, 'nuff said. We all know how this works.

The question of therapy. Dot brought it up on my last post (btw, everyone who reads this please go to and offer her some support. She's a wonderful person and she's going through a super hard time right now so give her some much deserved love). And, I guess, like everything else, I'm torn.

At times like now, when I look back at the most menial things and see utter failure and worthlessness, I think -"Jesus, this is dumb. You need help." I can go back and read suicidal posts, I can cringe at an eating-disorder or an "emo" joke and look at my scars and SEE someone who needs a little push from a professional. When I think back, or even reflect on daily life, I see someone who can't handle what is happening and who takes every negative event or constructive criticism to a whole new level. I see someone who takes solace in alcohol and in attention.

But that's where we reach the line. My rationale side, the side that is active and primarily in control when I am pleasant mood, is saying - "You're not sick. You're doing this for attention." And how true it could be. How many times have I fantasized about getting caught cutting or about getting cancer so the chemo would thin me out? How often I have!

Like, seriously? Look at me now. I'm not cutting or fasting (though I think about it) and everyone has low-self esteem. Sure the slightly too-easy decent into the suicidal/hateful mindset is concerning, but I have no reason for it. I've created my own demon, so why in hell's name should I disgrace my family and cause them to spend unneeded money on selfish me?

Then, there are the general concerns about what people/teachers would think. If they would think I'd been faking (I have), or being a drama queen (I have). Essentially, getting therapy means someone figuring out my ugly self and I can't... I don't want that.

I know I'm making excuses for not doing it, even though in my heart of hearts, I know I should even just to deal with family issues much less my own depression. I don't know how to go about it. I don't know if I could keep the secret. What I do know is my perfect image is concrete in public, it is undeniable. Once that mask begins to flake... I could lose everything. I'm terrified to even attempt.

End that thought. I want therapy I guess, I don't think I need it or deserve it, and I'm terrified of it.

I'm feeling really crappy right now because, once again, I've been forgotten. All my close friends have my grad arrangements assuming I was hanging with another group for grad. Alone, again. Surprise, surfreakinprise. It's all handed in and done, so I can't do shit all about it. they're all "we're so sorry, we thought..." yeah, well. What can I do? I'm so dumb, this is my own damn fault.

On top of that, I'm feeling in general fragile right now. I've reached for the blade a few times, never put it to skin... yet. The 30hr famine is coming up and I don't know if I want to risk fasting... even if it's for a good cause. Last time I stretched it into a 78hr famine... by changing the dates over and over. I can't be sucked into that again.

Anyways, I'm drinking on Saturday. With older people. And, honestly, I just want to numb it. Just for a night. With people I can trust to not rape me or some shit like that. Might say or do something stupid, but I don't care.

Weight is somehow still at 140-143. Logic is absent from my body and mind.

[edit: didn't get drunk at all. in fact, I fucking was insulted... alone all night. I should have fasted when I had the chance. binged today. cut today too. it's all starting again. and no one will ever know.]


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