I went to stay with friends for the weekend and it was really stressful cause of the food stuff but also I hate staying at other people’s houses. Being around other people full stop is really tiring and given the choice I’d enjoy just spending an hour at once one on one with a friend. Being with someone for three days non stop with little sleep is really enough for me to start hating them. Gonna just try and have some space from them now and hopefully I’ll come around.
I just had a screaming tantrum at my partner. We’d had a mixed evening so far. We had sex but he was too rough with me and made me sore and I had to stop. I was fed up about feeling sore but sort of feeling emotionally close to him as he did apologise. Then I had a shower and then he told me that he had a threesome with his girlfriend and her other boyfriend at the weekend.
I was like oh OK, I’m surprised you felt comfortable but I’m glad you had fun. Then he kept telling me more details and I told him it was too much detail so he stopped. Then he told me about a girl that gave him her phone number and showed me his arm which still had some permanent marker on it where she had written her number really big. I was like ok you’re doing that thing where you have to show off and make me jealous to be reassured I care about you. And he was all oh I’m not doing that Oh I didn’t mean to do that, etc. I’m sick of hearing that! He always denies his bad behaviour and his issues with insecurity and relationships and puts it all on me and my intpretations. Well fuck that, I own my issues, I admit my part in it that I do get jealous sometimes and I don’t want to hear loads about certain things.
So then I was feeling shit but I hadn’t lost my temper and I said thanks for making me feel shit when I was doing ok I need to be left alone to read my book and try to recuperate. He waits about FIVE SECONDS and tries to talk to me again at which point I completely lose my shit and scream at him because I HAVE JUST SAID I NEED SPACE AND HE IS SHITTING ALL OVER MY BOUNDARIES AGAIN.
I just about survived Christmas. I became full of dread of Christmas Eve and ended up taking a small overdose. Of course, I still had to deal with seeing my family the next day, and acted as if everything was fine. I put on that mask again. A lady in group cried a little when I mentioned the OD. I feel guilty.
As I posted on Twitter lately, my issues with food are well and truly back. I have been losing weight since I started therapy back in April last year. I am as fixated on food and weight loss as I was in the past. My family commented that I am thinner. I’ve lost over a stone all together, so far.
It is helping me to feel in control, though I know this is a lie, and that the obsessive thoughts about my body and food are what control me. I am giving myself up to it right now though, because I don’t know how else to survive.
I have a stressful appointment coming up next week that I am very anxious about. The results could have a hugely negative impact on my current situation. I feel like there’s never any stability in my life for long.
Yesterday I missed group therapy because I had bad tummy pains and felt very low. I tried to call to let the CMHRS know, but I was too anxious to get on the phone.
One of the group leaders called me later on to see if things are okay and I didn’t answer because I was scared, and I didn’t know what to say. It was the group leader I like the least, the male one.
Today, I made the decision to phone him. I tried to keep an open mind, reasoning that trying to talk to him might help my therapeutic relationship with him, which would in turn improve my experience of the group.
The phonecall went okay. I was honest that I’ve been finding things really tough. At one point I got frustrated because I felt like he wasn’t listening and I took a few deep breaths… he was trying to press home an important point that generally, I’m scared to speak in the group because I’m scared of what people will think of me.
He said he thinks I say helpful and thoughtful things and maybe I should push myself to speak more and my fears might not come true. I’m glad I phoned and tried to open up to him.
I’d like to push myself to speak more and learn to cope with it if people do judge me or are confrontational with me. But this week, this week I just felt that I could not cope with going there, what with being in pain and feeling so low.
I have managed to avoid cutting myself for a week and a half now. The video in my head of what I would do if I did still plays every day, and coping with that is slowly getting easier, I think.
… To add to my last post.
I’ve just realised I haven’t even said what I wanted to say about this. That all these hospital visits were invasive. That they put things inside me and I didn’t know what they were doing and I was scared. Strangers would touch me at these appointments.
My body never felt like my own and it doesn’t now.
I wonder if it’s possible to find out my medical records from when I was a kid and know what they were doing and why?