It's odd, after all this time I still struggle with thoughts of self injury. I haven't cut in a very long time, but i still think about it — a lot. I have to constantly stop myself. I have been successful for years now, but it still takes willpower.

It's very different for my eating problems. It's been a long time since I've been even tempted to purge. It just doesn't interest me anymore. I still struggle with body image issues, but purging isn't even on the table.

Self-injury and bulimia are very different beasts. They are both quick solutions, but the timing of the result is different. I wonder if that has anything to do with it. The effects of self-injury come immediately while the effects of bulimia are long term. Perhaps that is the difference. Perhaps bulimia just lost its twisted appeal to me while self-injury didn't.

In a way, self-injury not losing it's appeal is a blessing. It keeps me from letting my guard down. It reminds me that I can slip backward and by doing so it ensures that I continue to actively push forward.

I had thought of the Building 19 food section as an equivalent to the dented cans section of Stop & Shop. Not any more, that can of tomatoe soup literally tasted like stale old vomit. Absolutely disgusting. I will never buy a food item from Building 19 again.

I dumped it out and made a pot of a good can of tomatoe soup from Stop & Shop, but couldn't get the bad taste out of my mouth. Then I got worried about what might have made the first can taste like vomit and made myself throw up to reduce the amount of whatever bad I just ate. The actual vomit didn't taste nearly as bad as the first can of soup, likely because it was mixed with the good can of soup I ate.

Afterwards, I brushed my teeth and the fowl aftertaste has been greatly reduced. However, I'm still worried I didn't get enough of the bad stuff out.

This experience made me realize one good thing.: my bulimic days are so strongly enough behind me that an episode like this isn't even triggery.

Project Three Meals went completely off today. I got no healthy snack, got no exercise, and went on a junk food binge. Don't worry, I am not following that binge up with a purge, those days are very long gone and I'm not going back.

I did get in my three meals, though, if that matters. For breakfast I had egg and swiss on an everything bagel, for lunch I had linguine in a tomatoed alfredo sauce, for dinner I had pizza. Oh well, tomorrow's another day.

As if being a tween is not hard enough, scientists now call the years between 9 and 12 a time when girls are especially at risk of getting fat. Girls are more likely to become overweight in those preteen years than when they are teenagers, researchers report Monday in The Journal of Pediatrics. The study did not say why that was and did not examine boys to know whether they face a similar risk. ... Parents should pay attention to creeping waistlines and poor dietary habits, particularly in this age group, said Dr. Denise Simons-Mortonof the National Institutes of Health, which funded the research. ... "It should be cool to be physically active, and attractive," [Simons-Mortonof] said. full article

There you have it. Dr. Denise Simons-Mortonof believes it's vitally important that 9-12 year old girls be "attractive". Apparently she thinks that the drive to meet the media's demented beauty standards simply isn't pushed hard enough on these girls. Surely, with a little effort, the rates of anorexia and bulimia can be doubled.

purpleglitter found one of my zyprexa pills in an old bag of hers today. That brings back memories, though not good ones.

I haven't been on that nasty shit for around 5 years. On it, I gained 50 pounds in 2 months, providing me with stretch marks, triggering eating disorders that lasted years, perhaps permanently screwing up my metabolism. All that for the first in a line of zombie pills I was given.

At the peak, I had 7 prescriptions – 5 of them psych drugs. For years I was deluded that some drug cocktails would be the answer. I clung to the belief that they would offer some sort of "cure" or at least would help me get through "it".

Well, at least I learned a very important lesson: the only thing that can get me through "it" is me. Realizing that – truly realizing that – has allowed me to make the progress I have these last couple years. I just wish I didn't have to take all those gorram drugs to learn I didn't need them.

I've had several people complain about my appearance, saying something must be done. I look to ratty, my clothes are often tattered. I should die my hair or at least brush it more often. Wear lipstick. Do something.

However, I like how I look. I feel comfortable in my own skin. I've stopped trying to fit into a mold or a subculture. I'm exploring my own ground. And while I may get a little down about my weight now and again, I'm finding peace there too. I don't want to go back to being the bulimic stick I was years ago. I might be "overweight", but I'm pretty healthy (well, except for the falling down/seizure/twitchy/dizzy/whatever the hell they are spells).

I don't mind that people think I look like some "crazy woman". I am a crazy woman. I embrace that. It took me a long time to be comfortable in my skin. To be comfortable being what I am. I have come to realize of late that beauty is not about who or what you are, it is about not fighting who or what you are. I'm letting myself be me, and I like it.

I am not saying that there isn't room for improvement or bettering. While I have come far, I have a long way to go still. But as I move ahead I want to add more than replace. I no longer don't want to be me, and those who want me different will have to get used to that.

Mental "disorders" I have been "diagnosed" with over the years by either close friends, close family, or mental health professionals (bold indicates a mental health professional provided the diagnosis, italics indicate more than one person has given me the diagnosis):

Anorexia Nervosa Attention Deficit Disorder Autism Bipolar Disorder Body Dysmorphic Disorder Borderline Personality Disorder Bulimia Nervosa Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified Dissociative Identity Disorder Fictitious Disorder Gender Identity Disorder Major Depression - Recurrent Narcissistic Personality Disorder Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder Panic Disorder Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Psychosis Not Otherwise Specified Schizophrenia Social Anxiety Disorder

My eating has been out of control lately. I've gained a lot of weight, and the last few weeks I've been gaining about 2lbs a week. This is not health for someone who is at high risk of developing diabetes.

I need to regain control of my eating, and the best mechanism that I've found for that is Project Three Meals. Even when I don't do well at keeping to it, it keeps me conscious about how much I'm eating. I have to be very careful, as I've had problems with eating disorders in the past.

Same plan as before: Three reasonable meals a day plus one healthy snack. No more, no less. At least 30 minutes of exercise a day. That's it. It's that simple.

Project three meals starts Sunday. I'd start it tomorrow, but that is Pride and I want to be flexible on my food intake.

I missed the bus

I missed therapy

there are strange arcs with boxes in trianges flickering in rainbow colours in the right side of my field of vision

i purged yesterday

i don't really care

Found through lady_babalon:

A majority of the medical experts who created the "bible" for diagnosing mental illness have undisclosed financial links to drugmakers, says a study out Thursday. And some panels overseeing disorders that require treatment with prescription drugs, such as schizophrenia and "mood disorders," were 100% filled with experts financially tied to the pharmaceutical industry, says the study published in the journal Psychotherapy and Psychosomatics. ... The researchers looked for research funds, consultancies, patents and other gifts or grants received by members of the 18 separate DSM preparation panels from 1989 to 2004, both before and after their terms. They found that among the 170 medical experts who created the two most recent editions of the manual, 56% had one or more financial ties to the pharmaceutical industry. In addition to the schizophrenia and mood disorder panel's links, more than 80% of panel members for "anxiety disorders," "eating disorders," "medication-induced movement disorders" and "premenstrual dysphonic disorder" had financial ties. full article full article

From the perspective of someone who has dealt with the psych system quite a bit over the years, this doesn't surprise me at all.

Will anything change as a result of this report? Not directly. Change in the psych industry has and will only come as a result of external pressures, there is too much money in play and too many reputations on the line for the system to willingly change itself.

I'm trying to keep from looping, but sometimes it happens anyway. If I catch the loop early, I can break free of it by will power or meditational prayers. But, once it gets going very strongly, my mind becomes blocked to the All and I can see only the loop. Different strategies are then needed.

I used to use methods such as cutting and purging to pull me out. But they only worked somewhat, and ended up becoming loops in and of themselves.

Methods I use now are taking a walk, taking a long shower, smoking a cigar, smoking some weak salvia, or talking with Sol or Luna.

If the looping is beyond that, I will attempt to go to sleep. Sleep seems to be the most powerful non-destructive method of reseting loops available on a daily basis. I can wake up and am able to do my meditational prayer again and find the balance.

If I can't get to sleep, I take one of the dwindling number of Klonopins I have left over from when I had a prescription. I know that it's technically a psych med, but my dislike for psych meds is rooted in living on them. Taking one occasionally, especially with the intent of using it to sleep, is not the kind of use I am weary of.

Sometimes even sleep isn't enough. The looping load has a habit of building over time and occasionally A much larger reset button is needed. But I am not currently at that point.

I'm doing much better at keeping myself in the good place, even if I still loop sometimes. The fact that I am not freaking out all the time with my current level of stress is in and of itself a vast improvement. While I still have minor freakouts, they pass quickly. And even when I'm looping and out of touch, I am more able to move and function. I'm finding new ways to adapt. New ways to continue. New ways to be.

It's a difficult journey, but it is a journey that I have no choice but to take. An easy path was never promised to anyone. Although my path has seen many hardships, it has also seen many joys, and for that I am truly blessed.

Today I seem to have been able to get drunk without immediately vomiting for the first time in well over a year. The bulimia had done quite a number on my esophagus, and alcohol upset that damage greatly. But that damage seems to have for the most part healed. I am free to drink again!

The drink for tonight is Dr. McGillicuddy's Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey mixed with cinnamon apple cider. Very very yummy.

I was in a bad mood and didn't want to deal with anyone. I was thinking of cutting or purging or self-harming, so I did what I've learned is a very healthy activity that really helps me get through a state like that: I went for a walk. I got as far as Foodmaster up by Arlington High School. I had intended to try to reach Lexington Center again, but I was feeling quite dizzy and it was quite sticky and muggy outside, so I decided to go into the air conditioned Foodmaster.

I was walking haphazardly through the isles until store employees started questioning me if I was looking for something and if I was feeling alright. I probably did look a bit strange wandering in a daze with neither a carriage nor a basket.

I left Foodmaster and headed back towards the house_of_clocks. However, shortly after I had set out on my return trip, purpleglitter stopped behind me and meowed. I was supposed to help her look at cars, and when she found out I wasn't at home she figured I had set off on a walk and came looking for me. I hopped in and we headed off to our first stop: a 1997 Ford Escort wagon at a dealership in Winchester.

The Escort looked fine from the outside. The first hint of trouble was the odd sound the engine made when the salesperson started it. However, the real problems were found after we got into it. The ceiling was a bit damp and the air coming out of the vents had a nautical flavor. The car had taken a dip. Needless to say, the car was a no.

After we left Winchester, we picked up some hot cheese-covered breadsticks at My Brother's Place and ate them at purpleglitter's apartment and then headed out to car #2: a 1996 Buick Century from a private seller in Union Square in Somerville, just one street over from our apartment on Dane Street in the mid 1990s.

The car had some noticeable damage on the front which the owner informed us was from him hitting a deer. While the damage was large enough to cause us pause, it appeared to be only cosmetic. Another issue with the car was the passenger window that would not open.

We took the car for a test drive, and it ran smoothly. purpleglitter drove down 93 and ended up getting lost on the side streets in Boston trying to turn around. Heading back we missed our exit into Somerville. When we were approaching the FoodMaster at Clarendon Hill, I called the owner to tell him that we were running quite late due to this.

After the call, the car died, and it died in an odd way. We were sitting at a stop light and the dashboard lights got dim. Then the speedometer shot up to seventy, darted several times between 50 and 70, then every went off. By everything, I mean we didn't even have hazard lights and were were stopped on the very busy Alewife Brook Parkway at night.

Cars whizzing by, we called the owner to explain the situation. He sounded a bit annoyed, and asked if we could get the car out of the intersection. While it was bit dangerous to get out in the traffic to push the car, it would have been more dangerous to leave the car sitting there, so I got out and pushed. We parked the car on Broadway just over the Arlington Line. There we waited for the owner to arrive.

The owner arrived in an SUV with a friend of his. He sounded a bit accusatory, and wouldn't believe at first that we hadn't done something reckless to damage the car. While him and his friend were trying to get the car started, I called iamacliche and asked him if he could give us a ride back to purpleglitter's car in Union Square. He told us that he only had room for one passenger, so I walked home while he took purpleglitter to get her car. Upon finding her car, purpleglitter found a $40 parking ticket on the windshield. An extra jab from whatever mischievous spirit was amusing itself with us today.

I purged Wednesday. First time in many months. That makes a total of two times this year. (Maybe three, but I think it's two). I've been on an emotional rollercoaster on many fronts near and far in the past few weeks and I ended up doing something stupid and self destructive. I feel incredibly guilty wasting the food I ate, but getting caught up in the guilt only pushes an isolated event into becoming a ongoing cycle. I'm going to make an effort not to again.

I've also been very tempted to cut. Another habit that was hard to break. Another old pattern. I've been able to stay away from that one so far.

A slip up now and then is inevitable. I know a lot people are slipping up right now and falling back onto old self destructive behaviours. With the world seemingly spinning out of control it's harder to find balance inside. The volume has increased, and now is a time to forgive ourselves for not being perfect and move forward in the most healthy way we can muster.

I thought pro-ana communities like 0_thinspiration were bad enough. But at least those communities only advocate members harming themselves. Apparently now LiveJournal abuse sees no problems with pro-rape communities. I am pissed off beyond, well beyond. I can't believe that that community is allowed on LiveJournal. The LiveJournal abuse team (and maybe SixApart itself) must bear a portion of the responsibility for any violence that is perpetrated as a result of, under the advise of, or encouraged by that community.

Where is Hothead when you need her?

LJ Abuse actually did something about something I brought up. They deleted the hundred or so communities that the troll had created. I think there needs to be a way to avoid this sort of problem getting out of hand. I have a couple ideas I'm tempted to post in suggestions; however, I'm afraid doing so will just encourage others and cause the problem to spread. If it just dies out quietly, it may never become a real issue.

-----

The report I filed a month ago about 0_thinspiration went nowhere. All I got back form replies that didn't address the issues I brought up at all. I eventually just gave up trying.

I purged early this morning. I ate a bag of cheetos and felt incredibly ill. The combination of nauseousness from the cheetos and the guilt over having essentially binged led me downstairs to vomit. I haven't done that in quite a while, and I know I cannot allow myself to get back into that nasty cycle. I had incredibly bad problems with my upper digestive system because of bulimia and I still haven't completely healed. I don't want to do more damage. I've got to nip this in the bud. It's much easier to avoid that road before it becomes a habit. It is so fucking addictive.

I've been trying not to go back towards somesort of eating disorder lately. The fact that I weight more than I ever have in my life currently is one factor.

Another, possibly larger, factor is that I feel that my life is going nowhere. I feel helpless to make any meaningful changes. I know that might not be true, but that is how I feel. That feeling makes me want to control something. Purging is a bad method of taking control of something, but does feel a bit like it.

In addition to those reasons, I also get into a "fuck you" mode, unfocused on a ambiguous system. Self-harm feels like a way to express that rage, even though it really doesn't do that effectively.

But, those "factors" are simply excuses., and not very good ones at that. The bottom line is I screwed up. I fell off the horse, and now I must get right back on.

This weekend was rough for me. It really showed me how unstable I am. My mind locked down for well over 24 hours over something very small. The problem is small things can cascade very easily and end up having much larger significance in my mind. I didn't eat for over a day and couldn't get out of my bed much of that time. I was completely non-functional. I had a very very strong desire to kill myself, or at the very least hurt myself in some way.

The not eating was a method of hurting myself. I had decided to lose all the weight I've gained over the past couple years and do it by starting a "megadiet" which I would kick off with a fast. It was scary, because even after only a day, I had to force myself to eat again. Food had already become repugnant. I did get back into the habit after pushing through a bowl of lentil soup though.

While it would be good for me to lose some weight (my endocrinologist is worried about my diabetes risk), going back into the land of eating disorder is not the solution. I'm not going on a megadiet, but I do need to come up with some sort of diet/exercise program to take off the pounds. I currently weigh more than I've ever weighed in my life. For some reason, while I find people who weigh more very attractive, I cannot translate that into self acceptance. And it is that much harder to accept myself when I have doctors breathing down my neck about it.

But the draw to eating disordered thinking was only one part of the weekend. I cannot go into the details of what was going on in my brain and what it felt like without sounding melodramatic to some people. The mentally ill are often accused of being melodramatic when they are just expressing what is going on inside. It is of an intensity I don't think "sane" people experience; or at least if they experience it, the experience is very rare for them. They assume that expressions of emotions of such intensity and feelings such as your mind being ripped apart painfully as you watch the world crumble into darkness, hate, and suffering are melodramatic. Everyone's experience of insanity is different, but the "sane" do not understand the wide intensity of feelings that can be felt.

I don't know why my mind is the way it is. I would like to avoid having my brain locked down. I would like to not have to worry about talking about it for fear of being accused of being "melodramatic" when I express myself. I would like to not have to worry about talking about suicidal feelings for fear of being accused of being "manipulative" or "selfish". I would like to not see the mentally ill not always portrayed as either scary and dangerous (all over the place, especially law enforcement dramas) or a burden (shows like "six feet under"). I'm just frustrated, tired, and a lot of times I just want to give up. I'm tired of everything being a constant battle. A constant fight. I've been fighting all my life. I don't want to fight anymore.

I have becoming more and more unstable over the past few weeks. The problems seem to have peeked on monday. I had a particularly difficult time in therapy. My therapist tried to convince me to go the psych emergency room. I didn't go, because I very much don't want to end up in the hospital. My current therapist is very good about not forcing me to do things like that. I was quite out of it when I left therapy.

On my way home, I ended up on the ground in the middle of an Arlington side street, drenched in sweat. Several people saw me there and offered to call someone for me, I told them not to, that everything was fine. I told them I knew what was going on (I actually don't) and not to call anyone. I really didn't want to end up at the hospital.

Later in the evening I went to Walgreens to pick up some catfood. I ended up on the floor of one of the isles. I was able to get up and out with little harassment, but I went down again in the parking lot. It was very difficult to see. Everything was extremely blurry and I was again drenched in sweat. I spent 20 to 30 minutes in the parking lot feebly telling passersby not to call anyone. Luckily everyone respected that, and left me be. Eventually one of the people living in the apartment downstairs from mine found me and walked me home. I decided it was best not to venture out again that night.

I've had many "spells" today and yesterday, but nothing like Monday night. I've managed to stay off the ground. I don't know if the problem is related to psych issues or something else. It's something that I've dealt with for years. The problem waxes and wanes, but never goes away completely. Usually the spells are minor, and don't cause me to end up on the ground, but occasionally they'll be large enough to send me down. I usually (but not always) am able to avoid physical injury when this happens, because I can feel a very major one coming and can move myself to the ground before I actually fall.

All that does not help my headspace problems, which as I said, have been getting worse the past several weeks. I've been having many suicidal and self injury ideations. Simple ideations does not spell intent. While I may think about those things, I have not been motivated by those ideations enough to actually attempt something along those lines. The frequency of the ideations is, however, a barometer of my mental stability. I've been getting caught in more loops, and feeling generally doomed and hopeless. I have been attempting to hide these issues, as I was doing so well and I don't want to be seen as sliding backwards. I don't want people to worry about me going back to my old habits. I've worked hard to stop my SI, ED, and suicide attempts. I do not want to travel that road again, and I don't want others to worry that I will.