(no subject)
I was hospitalized for two weeks for being fucked up in the head. It was only two weeks but it felt as if it were months. I've been home for a few days already. I feel numb and that's what it's been since I got home. As soon as I got home I called Ari and light-heartidly said that I was fucked up in the head. She told me that I'm not fucked up and tryed to make me feel normal. I'm not normal. At least I can recognize it. I don't know why people try to make me feel better by telling me I'm not fucked up. I know I'm fucked up in the head. If I wasn't I wouldn't be on these drugs and going to therapy all the time.
My cat missed me. when I came in the door he ran up to me and meowed for attention and rubbed against my legs. It's sad that the cat appreciates me more than my own mother. The cat doesn't scold me for being upset and doesn't judge how I feel. The cat followed me upstairs where I saw my room rearanged. The lock off my door was taken off. Immediately I felt repressed cuz i couldn't lock myself in my room anymore to escape. All my razors and anything else I can hurt myself with were thrown out. Everything else was organized. Anythign that I thought I hid well the spots I hid those things in were discovered.
I have to make new, better hiding spots for things. My notebooks were found, the ones where I write my emotional thoughts in. My mom and brother read thru every fucking page of it. The shit she gave me most was that I'm having sex with Evan. I wrote in there so much about how I wanted to be dead and she doesn't show concern about me. she hits me over and over again cuz I have sex with another guy. I want the hiding spot to hide notebooks in them. I feel invaded. I didn't want anyone reading those.
I'm on another type of antidepressant. These new crazy pills give me the shits. I talked to the psychiatrist that put me on them and he said that it should eventually go away. The last pills I was on made me really constipated for the first two weeks I was on them. What a change of pace. The day after I came home I was shitting all day. The only thing I enjoyed was eating cheesecake and ice cream. I already had the shits so I might as well enjoy eating dairy. Yesterday and today I only had the shits in the morning. I've also been nauseous. I can't eat anything before 10 in the morning or I'll puke it up.
I saw Evan yesterday and that was the only time I was happy. When I came out of the subway staiton and saw him I ran to him and hugged him. I was so happy to see him that I kissed him right there. We went back to his apartment and made out. He bought me a necklace. I haven't taken it off since he gave it to me. I don't plan on ever taking it off. When I look at it I'm reminded of him and I smile. He got me a butt plug too. ;)
I'm miserable. It doesn't seem this way it but I'm glad to be alive. My mom went out shopping this afternoon and brought soy milk home. I don't normally drink it. She said to me that I can stop eating dairy if I eat meat again. She's been telling me that I have to eat meat every day since I stopped eating it over six years ago. I haven't eaten it since. What makes her think I'm gonna eat dead animal now. I made smoothies with the soy milk. Fruit is good and doesn't trigger binges like junk food does. I'm not going to buy junk food until I'm recovered. I told my mom not to buy any since she doesn't want me binging and purging. She wants me to stop but doesn't want to help my recovery. She thinks it's as easy as me getting more self-control. She's not the one dealing with all this anxiety. There's junk food downstairs and I've been good so far and I haven't had binges.
My cat missed me. when I came in the door he ran up to me and meowed for attention and rubbed against my legs. It's sad that the cat appreciates me more than my own mother. The cat doesn't scold me for being upset and doesn't judge how I feel. The cat followed me upstairs where I saw my room rearanged. The lock off my door was taken off. Immediately I felt repressed cuz i couldn't lock myself in my room anymore to escape. All my razors and anything else I can hurt myself with were thrown out. Everything else was organized. Anythign that I thought I hid well the spots I hid those things in were discovered.
I have to make new, better hiding spots for things. My notebooks were found, the ones where I write my emotional thoughts in. My mom and brother read thru every fucking page of it. The shit she gave me most was that I'm having sex with Evan. I wrote in there so much about how I wanted to be dead and she doesn't show concern about me. she hits me over and over again cuz I have sex with another guy. I want the hiding spot to hide notebooks in them. I feel invaded. I didn't want anyone reading those.
I'm on another type of antidepressant. These new crazy pills give me the shits. I talked to the psychiatrist that put me on them and he said that it should eventually go away. The last pills I was on made me really constipated for the first two weeks I was on them. What a change of pace. The day after I came home I was shitting all day. The only thing I enjoyed was eating cheesecake and ice cream. I already had the shits so I might as well enjoy eating dairy. Yesterday and today I only had the shits in the morning. I've also been nauseous. I can't eat anything before 10 in the morning or I'll puke it up.
I saw Evan yesterday and that was the only time I was happy. When I came out of the subway staiton and saw him I ran to him and hugged him. I was so happy to see him that I kissed him right there. We went back to his apartment and made out. He bought me a necklace. I haven't taken it off since he gave it to me. I don't plan on ever taking it off. When I look at it I'm reminded of him and I smile. He got me a butt plug too. ;)
I'm miserable. It doesn't seem this way it but I'm glad to be alive. My mom went out shopping this afternoon and brought soy milk home. I don't normally drink it. She said to me that I can stop eating dairy if I eat meat again. She's been telling me that I have to eat meat every day since I stopped eating it over six years ago. I haven't eaten it since. What makes her think I'm gonna eat dead animal now. I made smoothies with the soy milk. Fruit is good and doesn't trigger binges like junk food does. I'm not going to buy junk food until I'm recovered. I told my mom not to buy any since she doesn't want me binging and purging. She wants me to stop but doesn't want to help my recovery. She thinks it's as easy as me getting more self-control. She's not the one dealing with all this anxiety. There's junk food downstairs and I've been good so far and I haven't had binges.