Saturday, June 13, 2015

June 12

June 12th 2014
I don't remember much of this day.
I remember my parents leaving for work.
I remember having had terrible nightmares and feeling quite low and impulsive.
I remember going out on my ebike to buy razors and a big bottle of pills.
I remember worrying about how much money I was spending even though I was planning on being dead.
I remember going back home and cutting.
I remember taking every last pill in that bottle.
I remember lying on my bed hoping to fall asleep forever.
I remember my therapist calling for our phone session.
I remember my step dad calling as my therapist was concerned that I didn't pick up.
I remember ignoring the phone ten or twenty times.
I remember finally picking up and saying what happened.
I remember my step dad rushing home crying and screaming.
I remember an ambulance being called.
I remember being in the ER hallway so I could be watched.
I remember being brought over to the psych ER.
I remember little bits and pieces of my evaluation.
But I don't remember most if that afternoon.
I remember waking up and being told my new diagnosis.
I remember laughing because turns out I had the same illness as my ex's mom.
I remember apologizing over and over to my parents who were trying to understand, and my siblings who didn't even know what was going on.

June 12th 2015
I didn't wake up in the best mood.
I had actually just slept for 32 hours straight.
Depression and malnutrition can do that to you.
I got on the scale and was actually semi okay with what I saw, I guess my bloat had reduced in my sleep.
I had a damn paper to write so I opened my laptop.
And procrastinated a little by watching Gilmore girls.
I then went to celebrate.
My past year.
With a waffle brunch with one of my best friends.
My plan was to purge.
But I decided I deserved it.
Even though that one meal was more than I like to eat in a day.
I went and wrote my paper.
And colored some sea turtles.
Then went out for my friend's birthday.
I had a really cute dress I had recently bought.
And it made my diminishing boobs look great.
My fake ID worked, but I new better than to drink.
I was feeling quite melancholy.
And didn't need the depressant of alcohol.
I came home and binged and purged.
Almost as a reward.
For getting through this year.
It's been hell, but I'm doing better.
I still think of ending it all.
But at least I have good days to look forward to now.

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