Taking a nosedive into negative territory

I’ve been wanting to write another blog post for a while – thoughts and stressors have been swirling around in my head, and I figured a blog post would be a good way to go. But I couldn’t figure out what to write, so forgive me if this is a little haphazard.

I’m in the hospital again. Well, a partial hospitalization. It means I’m doing groups in the hospital during the day, but I get to go home at night. My mental health has been taking a nosedive since before Thanksgiving and two weeks ago hit a peak where I just wanted to die.

I kept thinking, what was the point? Why should I even bother? Why was I even here? People are resilient, but I didn’t apply that to myself. Just the resilience that, if I was gone, even those who cared about me would get over it eventually. It’s how people survive.

This thought was “evidence-based” from my own experience. When my close friend died by suicide my freshman year in college, I was a wreck. For several months, I was inconsolable. I’m sure her family felt much worse, but I can only imagine. But it’s been almost 7 years since…and while I’m still sad, I still miss her, I don’t think about her every day. In fact, I don’t think about her most days. She doesn’t factor into my daily life. And that scares me – that people can, not forget, but move on. It makes me feel unimportant. It makes me feel insignificant – like it doesn’t matter if I exist at all.

I’m sure my parents and sister would be traumatized if I died. My friends would ultimately get over it. Not that they don’t care, but like, people move on.

I sent a group message to my friends the other day. I was really scared to do it, because the last time I reached out for support or reassurance, I was called emotionally manipulative. To be fair, I’m sure I didn’t phrase my request well, I was in the middle of a depressive panic-attack, and I just shot out a text to three of my friends asking if they were still my friends. They wondered why I only sent the text to the three of them, which I couldn’t really explain, and they told me I was manipulating them. There was more to it than that, but when I tried to express myself I basically got shot down, and I got no compassion for my emotional state. I recognize that I can’t expect people to automatically have the capacity to support me or be there for me – everyone has their own stuff to deal with. But this wasn’t presented in that context. It was presented as if I was in the wrong for having a mental illness, and I just needed to try harder to be “normal.” Now, my memories may be a bit skewed based on how I interpreted  what they said. They may not have meant any of that at all. But that was how I understood their words.

Regardless, I sent a group message to my friends, letting them know that my mental health had taken a nosedive, I was in the partial hospitalization program, and that I may need some extra support. I assured them it was fine if they couldn’t provide that support, because I understand that everyone has their own stuff that they’re dealing with and you need to put your own oxygen mask before assisting others, but if I was extra distant or extra clingy, that was the reason why.

I got three responses. Not that I was necessarily expecting responses, but still…I was hoping for responses. I sent the message to 11ish people. One of those three responses was from a friend I didn’t even send the message to, because she doesn’t have FB messenger where I sent the message, but I was planning on contacting later. One of the responses was from a friend who just told me to reach out if I needed help, and the final response was from my ex. Who is my friend, but I don’t feel like I can talk to him about any of this stuff because it is the reason why he dumped me. The fact that my ex is one of the only people who consistently responds to me when I send out messages (regardless of what kind of message, it could be an invitation to the group chat to hang out, or just a “hey what’s up”)  is incredibly frustrating. Because there’s a lot I know I can’t trust him with emotionally, but he seems to be one of the only ones who cares enough to respond, even if he responds three days later because he’s really bad at texting.

So I can’t help but feel disappointed that most of my friends didn’t even respond with a “feel better!” or anything like that, even though I know it’s an unreasonable expectation.

I need to be able to rely on myself, and not be so dependent on other people for my happiness and well-being, but it’s really hard. I’m trying. but I might not be succeeding exactly.

I’m still figuring some things out. Why my mental health went poop recently, for example. I still can’t figure that out. It just sucks.

I need to put my oxygen mask on, but right now, I can’t even find it.


“There’s no other way out of it, you’re going to have to decapitate me” Dirk Strider, Homestuck

I’ve been talking about this with my therapist recently. I’ve come to realize that I can’t really tolerate emotional or mental pain. Physical pain? Whatever. I mean, obviously I don’t like physical pain, but I can tolerate it. But emotional/mental pain? It’s like that joke/meme from Homestuck with Dirk – whenever something mildly inconveniences him we say “Well, there’s no other way out of it, you’re going to have to decapitate me” (Dirk was decapitated at least two times canonically and says the below, but I digress).


Source: http://terezi-discourse.tumblr.com/ via Homestuck/MS Paint Adventures

Rather than deal with the problems or the emotional pain, Dirk would rather be decapitated. (At least according to the meme – he has actual reason to be decapitated in canon).

Anyway, my point is I would rather be decapitated than deal with my emotional pain, mental pain, or uncomfortable emotional disturbances/situations. I was never really a cutter, I was a scratcher, a biter, a binge-eater. Nonetheless I imagine myself cutting my wrists and slitting my throat every single time I feel uncomfortable. Parents lecturing me again about spending money on something stupid, and being unable to mange my budget? Feel like shit – better slit my wrists. Accidentally using the phrase “I didn’t want to call you out in front of everyone” instead of “I didn’t want to single you out in front of everyone” – making the person I was talking to think I was mad at them rather than paying them a compliment like I was trying to? I’m so stupid – better bash my head against a tree.

If I was dead I wouldn’t have to deal with emotional pain. I don’t want to be dead (anymore. Right now.) However, my first thought upon being mildly inconvenienced is “If I was dead I wouldn’t have to deal with this.”

If that’s my problem when mildly inconvenienced, you can probably imagine how I feel when I’m in actual emotional pain.

I’m horribly fat and hate my body, no one will ever love me, I will never figure out how to live as a functional adult, my ex is thriving while I’m miserable, I’m lonely, I’m alone, I can’t deal I can’t deal I can’t deal. With this, I actually do bite my lip hard or dig my fingernails into my palm, while imagining something more, something like slitting my throat. I don’t actually do anything that will cause permanent harm, and I’m not even sure it could be called self-harm. But I just can’t deal.

I don’t like this reaction. But I don’t like being uncomfortable or miserable more. I’d rather imagine the ways in which I can hurt myself than feel the roiling in my guy of shame and misery.

Sometimes I draw on my face with makeup, use my bright red lipstick in trails by my eyes to make it look like I’m crying blood. Or scribble on my face just so I can see something. I need some way to take control.

But in the end, there’s no other way out of it. I guess you’re going to have to decapitate me.

With somebody who loves me…

I’ve been sick in bed for four days now and I’ve done pretty much nothing but read romantic fanfiction. It’s gotten to the point where I’m dreaming romantic fanfiction, and that sexy Russian figure skaters will come and sweep me off my feet.

But life isn’t a fanfiction, a romance movie, or a novel. And when I wake up from my dreams I’m still alone, and I’m sad.

Yes, this is another post about love and romance and heartbreak and such. I’ve just been thinking about it a lot because I have nothing else to do but read schmoopy stories and feel happy about that and then sad that my life is not a schmoopy story.

I know it’s not all like that, but at this point, I can’t help but feel I’ll be alone forever. I have a hard time meeting people. And maybe I don’t give people enough of a chance, and I’m missing out on something.

For example, I went on a date last week. It was perfectly nice. But…I didn’t feel anything. He was nice, he was cute, but everything about the encounter was awkward. Not in a bad way, and if he asked, I might even go out with him again. But I didn’t feel enough of a connection to want to ask him out again.

And I don’t know if I’m just not taking enough chances. But like. It didn’t feel right. And I don’t know what right feels like. But it wasn’t that.

Maybe I’m too picky. Maybe my standards are too high. For someone who is not very pretty, is an anxious, depressed mess, and is otherwise average in every way, I don’t have a lot to offer. But I’m looking for something special. I don’t want to date just to have someone to date. That’s not me. But who would even like me?

And then there’s my ex – I miss what we had a lot. I still cry about it. And he’s still really attractive. But I’m finally at a point where I know I don’t want to get back together with him – we both have too much baggage and it’s not a matched set. I’m looking for someone whose baggage complements mine.
I’m rambling yet again. I don’t know exactly what the point of this was. Maybe I’m just looking for advice.

Readers, how did you meet your SOs, if you have any? What makes it work? Why can’t I find somebody to love me?

“When everything feels like a movie, yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive” – Goo Goo Dolls

What’s the point?ctrlaltthumb-1

I’m beginning to feel apathetic to down again, and I don’t know if that means my new mood stabilizer is working or not. I know I haven’t been manic since I started it about two months ago, so that’s a good sign. But I’m feeling more, I don’t know, generically depressed? Like, I’m not suicidal at all right now, so I don’t think I’m having any low-lows, and I’m certainly not having any high-highs. I’m just…tired and sad.

And I wonder, what’s the point? I feel as if I’ve lost control of my life – I’m bulimic, I’m depressed, and I’m just unable to do anything right now. I hang out with my friends, I go to my internship, my job, and my classes, but I don’t feel anything. I can smile and laugh and all that, it’s not like I feel nothing, I don’t feel empty like I used to a long time ago, but I’m not really experiencing anything either.

It’s like I’m…I don’t know. There’s a Welcome to Night Vale quote that says, “Death is only the end if you believe the story is about you” – or something like that. And I love that quote. Because I don’t think the story is about me, even though it’s my life. Everything will go on after my death, not that I want to die right now. I don’t even want to just stop exisiting right now. I’m not in pain like I have been in the past. But I want to be in control. I want to feel good. I want to feel bad. I want to experience the variety of human emotions without letting them control me, as they do when I feel them so deeply.

It’s like, in some ways, bulimia /eating disorders are supposed to be about control. Controlling something when everything else is uncontrollable. But I don’t feel in control. I feel like I can’t stop it. And maybe there’s just part of me that doesn’t want to stop. But I do want to stop.

I feel…contradictory. And again, what’s the point? What’s the point to becoming a social worker, if I can’t even solve my own problems? What’s the point to eating well if I am going to gain weight anyway because of my medication. What’s the point in anything at all.

I may have said this before, but there’s a Papa Roach lyric that goes “I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut. My weakness is that I care too much” And I really identify with that lyric. However, now I feel I don’t even have that. I’ve barely cared about anything recently.If I can’t even care too much, what’s the point?

I’m just tired. I just want to lay on the couch and pet the cat. But she doesn’t want me to pet her and she doesn’t care about me either. She just wants to be fed and then goes off and does her own thing. I know people care about me, and maybe it’s just selfish to want more. But that’s something that I’ve talked about before and differently. That’s certainly not the point.

This is just a rambly little post. I don’t have anything new or unique to say. But I want to try and update more. Maybe this is pointless too.

I’m sorry.

On Eating Disorders

Hey guys, once again it’s been a while.

I’ve been working on my master’s and it’s been very busy. But during this time I developed another mental health condition, an eating disorder. (TW: EMETOPHOBIA)

I’m bulimic.

It’s hard to conceive of. On the one hand it’s like, how can I do this to myself? I see people smoking cigarettes and such, and wonder how anyone could have gotten involved in such a self-destructive behavior that is harmful to my health. Now I think to myself that I’m doing the same thing. I’m throwing up after I eat, almost every day, though it’s not every meal and sometimes I’m able to control it. This is awful for my health – it leads to weight gain, esophageal problems, teeth problems, et cetera.

I’m miserable about it. I hate throwing up, it feels gross, even if I feel better afterwards. But I sit at work after lunch and I can’t stop thinking about throwing up. It’s usually lunchtime, sometimes breakfast or dinner, but almost always lunch. And I don’t know what to do.

My therapist says it’s a decision that I can make. I can decide to stop having an eating disorder, but she can tell there’s part of me that doesn’t want to stop. I think it’s about control and desire. I am stressed and tired and I keep gaining weight. I can’t seem to control my food intake – I want to eat EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME – so I control how I feel afterwards. I don’t know. It allows me to eat whatever I want with the uncomfortable feeling of overeating. It means I can have it both ways.

I don’t want to have an eating disorder. But at the same time I’m afraid I do. I can’t control my weight – now I have another reason (you gain weight when you’re bulimic often because you’re still getting calories, just not nutrition from the food. Or something. I don’t really understand it but this is what I was told). So I gained weight from my depression meds, and now I’m gaining weight because I feel the need to throw up after I eat.

I really don’t know what to do about this. I need help. But I can’t afford inpatient treatment right now.


It’s been forever since I blogged – mostly because the school year started and so I have 24 hours of internship per week, 20 hours of job, and 10+ hours of class depending on how long it takes me to do my homework and study. So I don’t have much time for breathing, let alone writing.

It was my birthday a few days ago and something interesting happened to me: I got catcalled.


Now I don’t take that as a good thing, it’s just a surprising thing, considering my weight and my general issues with self-esteem and appearance. I barely got catcalled when I was skinny, let alone now. How messed up is it that part of my self worth is driven by the erotic approval of random men on the street? I mean, it’s not, not really. I don’t like being catcalled, it freaks me out. But like, the fact that someone thought I was attractive enough to catcall makes me feel a little bit better, but also weirded out.

Like, how can I think like that? It’s toxic, and it’s patriarchal. I hate that I think like that. But It makes sense in some way based on the way our society is. “Take it as a compliment!” they say. But it’s always creepy, and always scary when it happens, even if it is meant as a genuine compliment. But “Hey sexy, how you doing?” is not generally a compliment.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this. It’s sort of just a life report and a little rant. Everyone who follows me knows I have self-image issues, and those are just getting worse. But regardless of that I don’t want to be catcalled – even when there’s part of me that insists that I do.

We are constantly bombarded with sexual imagery and the idea is pushed into our heads over and over again that our bodies are commodities for male consumption. But men don’t like fat girls like me. So I’m never catcalled. Hooray for that! But also because society has taught me I must be desirable, the fact that no one desires me really hurts. It’s not just the catcalling. It’s the fear that because of my body, no one will ever love me and I’ll be alone forever. And that’s a depression spiral I sink into often – when I don’t get responses on my online dating apps, when I feel like I can’t talk to someone at the bar or the club, when I see just how good my ex looks, and know how terrible I look, and knowing that even he, who once loved me, wouldn’t want me now. It’s terrible. It’s a self-esteem issue. But regardless catcalling does not solve that issue!

The only type of catcalling I want to hear is when a literal cat calls me on the phone. And since that rarely happens, well…no catcalling!



Not Good Enough – Thoughts on what I can do to combat facism and white supremacy in the United States – based on the Charlottesville march that occurred this past week

I’m outraged. I’m not surprised. And I’m scared.  But here’s the thing – I don’t know what to do, or what I can do.

With the exception of the occasional post on this blog, I don’t share news articles or anything to my other social media sites because I like them to be safe spaces for me. And yes I know it’s a privilege to ignore things that upset me and make me uncomfortable. But I also find that in some ways, simply sharing and doing nothing else is “slacktivism” and I know I’m preaching to the choir of my Facebook friends (I have carefully cultivated my friends list as such), I have only friends as followers on Twitter, and I guess I don’t know anything about my followers on Tumblr, but I still don’t have a large enough platform to make a difference there.

I would donate money if I had any I could spare – but I barely make enough to live on without support from my parents and I’m personally fighting a shopping addiction and hypomania-induced impulse control issues that leave me with less than I need, let alone any disposable income.

I would go to rallies – and I’ve gone to one or two – but the big ones in my city this week are all happening during the first couple of trainings for my new internship at the suicide prevention hotline – which I can’t miss.

So I have all these things and all that’s running through my mind is EXCUSES EXCUSES EXCUSES.

I’m queer and Jewish and have a mental illness. I am a woman. I am not the pinnacle of white European-ness or whatever these Nazis and white supremacists want me to be. But I am white. And for all intents and purposes, regardless of the intersection of my other identities, that gives me a great deal of privilege. But I don’t know how to use it.

And I can’t deny that I’m scared. Even as a bisexual female Jew, I haven’t been personally discriminated against in my own life, nor have I ever been in any danger. And I’m really afraid to put myself into danger. But I am sub-human to these fucks, even if my general whiteness allows me to “pass”

I saw a post this morning that said something like, “If you ever wondered what you would do during slavery, the Holocaust, or apartheid, STOP. Because you’re doing it right now.” And that made me wonder what I was doing.

In practice I am doing nothing. And that’s not what I want to do. I want to do something, but I want to do something meaningful. I don’t want to be a “slacktivist”.

What I’m doing now is Not Good Enough. It’s not good period because I’m essentially doing nothing except trying to start conversations with friends and family members who mostly agree with me already, but are also not doing anything.

So I’m looking for advice, here. What can I do?