I know it’s the fifteenth, but for the sake of my day not really being over, I’m gonna consider it the fourteenth.
Today was okay. I have decided to take my weight back under control. I’ve hit the gym pretty hard today and yesterday. I also plan on going tomorrow after a much-needed nap and a healthy lunch. I’m not sure if skipping breakfast is helping or hurting, but I really haven’t eaten breakfast consistently for a while now. If I do decide to eat a bagel in the morning, I try to go as long as possible without lunch or even skip it. I don’t know. I’m just trying to be confident in my body again, and I feel good about it so far.
As for an emotional checkup, I’ll start with my sleep last night. I laid away from hours after I crawled into bed. Maybe four? It was enough to start to feel hungry, so I got up, peed, and drank a glass of water. But I don’t think my brain kept me up too much. I didn’t spiral into a pit of despair like the previous night. I was just wide awake for some reason.
I think things might look up for me and Rachel. I would like to get lunch or dinner or something with her one day and apologize profusely about handling a situation so shitty. I don’t need things to go back to the way they were; that would be asking a lot. I just want her to know that I am truly sorry for throwing something so special away. I just need her to know that I know what a piece of garbage I’ve become.
Something happened though. There was a boy I met through OKcupid, and we texted a lot. But like, I stopped texting him because it just felt wrong to lead him on. I knew I would never meet him in real life, let’s be honest. And he keeps trying, and I like the attention. But I know it’s not fair to do that to someone. I have to ignore it, and find a boy in real life. Not just texting.
Now that I bring this up, I’m just so frustrated with myself. I can feel that it’s me that stands in my own way of forming romantic relationships. I think to change it I just need to be more confident in my own self worth and trust that not everyone is out to hurt me. It’s a tall order, but I can do it. I can be a real human with real emotions and real human relationships.
Another thing I found out today. Cuyler really wanted to get with me on Saturday, aka my birthday celebration. Apparently, he tried very hard to get my attention. I didn’t realize. Nor will I return the affection. He acts INCREDIBLY desperate. It really turns me off from him, though he’s not unattractive. The fact that he seems like he would hook up with anyone is just so unappealing. But it does feel good to think someone finds me appealing. He keeps saying he can’t figure me out. What does that mean? I’m not a complex person to figure out. I am so blunt with people, it should not be hard to understand my personality.
I think I had a better day today mostly because I was busy all day. I had work in the morning, then class, then I ate lunch and went straight to the gym, came back, showered, and went back to work until 8 and got dinner with Pat. I think I didn’t have time to think about my issues. I think it was easy for me to forget myself in my work. I’m hoping tomorrow will not be a rough one.
I’m hoping eventually I come to terms with the fact that my past is my past. I can’t change it, but it did change me as an adult. I’m 20 years old and I’m still terrified with idea of sex. How can people be so vulnerable with each other? I barely trust my friends as it is. How can I trust another human with my naked body, letting them touch me and putting my own pleasure into their hands? Does everyone have these fears? Or are mine just so violently apparent.
I want sex. Don’t get me wrong. I am a sexual being. I just shiver at the thought of actually doing it. Of actually touching someone and trusting someone so intimately.
But it’s not the only thing I have trouble with. I honestly need to work on own trust issues. I have to learn how to be vulnerable with my feelings before my body. I think that’s the way it needs to go.
Ok. Well. It’s very late and I need to try to sleep because I have an early class. Good night, journal.
Don’t let anyone tell you that emotional abuse is less severe than physical abuse.
Today I feel just as gloomy and grey as the weather. I have not been getting a lot of sleep lately. My brain keeps me up in the early morning hours with the thoughts of “how could you ever good enough” and images of dying alone. It’s not so much that I am upset because I just want a boyfriend or affection. I’m upset because I feel like I can’t accept affection. I can’t accept compliments. I can’t accept the fact that someone actually loves me and wants me around. I feel disposable. I feel like am not worth a second thought to anyone.
I am destructive. I am destructive within my own feelings toward myself. Not only am I not thrilled with own body image, but I feel like emotionally, I am in an even worse place. I keep thinking about my childhood. Was it real? Or am I making things up in my head to justify why I feel the way I do? I just feel like sometimes I put the images in my head. I don’t feel like they are memories. I’m making excuses to myself as to why the fuck I am so fucked up.
But it had to be real. Why else would I flinch away from any sort of touch, especially an unexpected or uninvited touch? Why else would I feel like I could never trust anyone? Of course, I’ve had rocky relationships with my friends in the past. We get into fights. But eventually, I realize how shitty I’m acting and try to patch things up.
In Rachel’s case, I handled the situation very poorly. I should have been a better friend to her, instead of shutting her out. But that’s the easiest solution for me; shut them out. Don’t let them see you vulnerable. They’ll tell someone. They’ll let someone know I’m unstable. But I think the way I handled the situation with Rachel, it could already be assumed that I’m unstable. How just throws away a great friendship with someone because of one mistake. I think my biggest my mistake was avoiding the situation. My biggest mistake was cutting her off.
I feel like things have gone so long without attention that it would be awkward to fall back into the friendship. And it sucks. I completely blame myself. I am mad at her for stealing Oxy and getting addicted, but I am the one that completely shattered the friendship. Everyone in my family, all my friends, they say I did the right thing. They say I shouldn’t be associated with her. I want to believe them, but I miss what we had so goddamn much. I am so lonely sometimes, and I don’t have anyone to talk to.
I don’t want my mom to worry. I keep my shit quiet around her. Hannah has so many other issues, that I could never dump my shit onto her. Pat and I don’t have that friendship dynamic. It would never work. Rachel was my rock. She understood how it was for me. And I threw it away. And I am the lonely one, as it should be. I don’t think she even wants to be friends anymore, even though she says she wants to catch up. People say that to be polite. People don’t actually want to catch up with me.
But the thing that has been bothering me most is the situation with my dad. It’s a strange thing to come from abuse. I would take a bullet for my father. I love him. But the devil on my shoulder absolutely hisses in my ear when I think about shit like that. How could I love someone who strangled me, who punched me, slapped me, shoved me against walls, screamed at me so frequently? How could I love someone who left me so emotionally broken? How could love someone who scarred me so horribly? The answer is stupid, maybe not even justifiable, but he is my dad. He’s my family. I don’t turn my back on my family, no matter how fucked up the situation is.
But it’s not fair. It’s not fair that the thought of something liking me for me is ridiculous to me. It’s not fair that I can’t believe someone would enjoy my personality and want to be around me. It is not goddamn fair that I don’t like being touched, even in the most innocent possible sense of the word. It is not fair that I can’t trust someone’s intentions. It’s not fair.
Is my fault I’ve never been in a relationship? Most likely. In the past year, I pushed away two very sweet, very kind, probably well-intentioned boys from my life. They showed one sign of wanting me, and really wanting me for a relationship, and I bailed. I just get so goddamn anxious. I want to vomit when someone shows interest. Is it me being afraid of commitment? Of trusting? Am I afraid to be happy? Am I afraid of letting someone see my vulnerable? Am I really that shallow?
I think the answer is a complex one. Considering the one thing I currently crave the most is just closeness with another human. I want someone to hug, to kiss, to spill my thoughts and feeling to, to hold me when I sleep or I’m upset, to watch a movie with on Friday night instead of going out, to make me believe I am worth something is so contradictory. Is it selfish? Yeah, a little. But I would return someone’s affection. I would be so grateful. I would be head over heels. But the only thing standing in the way, besides the lack of a romantic interest at the moment, is me. I stand in the way of my own happiness. But why? Why?
I think it has everything to do with trust. I don’t trust people for a long time. I don’t know how. My brain, my fucked up brain, doesn’t let me. New people are not to be trusted. New people are out to hurt me. New friends don’t actually enjoy my company. I’m neurotic. I really am.
I don’t know. I tried to go to counseling today, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to go. It’s embarrassing. I don’t want anyone to know, nor do I feel comfortable telling a complete stranger my issues. But also don’t feel comfortable telling someone I’m close to my issues. What am I supposed to do? Wait until I have a mental breakdown? Wait until I want to fucking kill myself? This sickness inside my head is just so invisible. Some days I wish someone would ask me what’s wrong. Some days I wish there was neon sign over my head, pointing someone my way to realize I’m not okay. Most days, I don’t want to tell anyone anything. I don’t want people seeing inside my head. I don’t want them to know how fucked up I am. I don’t want anyone to know how deeply I hate myself for the way I feel.
So journal…this is what I’m doing. This is my own therapy. This is private. This is my life.