I’ve spent my whole life depriving myself of things that I should have enjoyed. Not even food wise, long before I would just not bother ask for something because I felt like if I couldn’t do it myself, I don’t need it. To this day, I still feel like this, I hate needing help, being weak and vulnerable, I never let it show.
Now I’m just thinking of how, since M is away, I wanted to get myself off to relieve some stress, something I never really had a problem with. But this time, I couldn’t bear touching my body and feeling how much bigger I am… I couldn’t feel my ribs or hips, I had to look in the mirror, the dimples on my back were barely noticeable, covered by a layer of fat. It made me panic, so I took a zimmer and put on calm music to put myself to sleep, but I just feel into a semi-conscious state thinking of all the wrong things. Thinking now, this is what is causing me to relapse now.
Lately, my image is down and I think of death a lot, it’s slipping back in. Being alone has not helped, the struggle has been relentless, I know I can’t give up. I’m glad I have someone how keeps me going. The thought of him can help almost any of my thoughts. I use memories of him to calm down.. It’s not healthy. When I take z’s or benzo’s I can’t control my thoughts, all the bad stuff comes back and I’m too hazy to focus on M. I guess I shouldn’t use them, but it’s the only way to calm the sea. M says it’s not a bad thing, but I don’t like it.
The one thing I am looking forward to is dying my hair so my grey’s will be gone for a few weeks.
I’m quite vain.
Wonderlesslust 