Let Me Sleep

I'm so tired. So very, very tired.

Even as I sit here writing this I find my eyelids drooping, and my limbs growing weary with exhaustion. I long for the comfort of my bed and the sweet release of my subconscious taking over. I have once again done nothing today.

I woke up, ate a small breakfast, cleaned teeth and skin, watched the Little Mermaid and Lion King, ate a fulfilling lunch, scrolled though the Internet for a few hours, vacuumed my room (which is still technically my father's office), organised the rail upon which my clothes now hang (it's ordered by clothing item and then colour), prepared a two course dinner, ate said dinner, watched mindless TV and then sat down to my laptop again to type this. It's only 9pm.

I find myself a lot less energised now a days. As though I'm constantly in a numb state. It could be the medication I'm on (a mixture of Zoloft and Fluoxetine), or it could be the fact that I am so constantly bored day in, day out. I really have no excuse for posting more. It's not that I don't have the time, it's just that I don't have enough interesting subject matter to share. Unless you want to hear the changes in my bowel movements, or my opinions on the latest Tyra episode.

I think I'll go to sleep now. I can't keep my eyes open for another minute.

As a Child

When I think of myself as a child, I wonder if I was truly ever happy to begin with. I mean sure, I smiled and laughed just as much as the next kid, but I was never satisfied with myself. From a very early age I was already the target for 'playful bullying'. I was tiny, still am, had plenty of freckles and fat cheeks. I was called shrimp, and spotty by the other four year olds at kindergarten. I did have friends, but even they playfully made fun of me.

First year of school I got my first crush on a boy. He had dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and an elfin face. One day I kissed him right on the lips in front of the entire class. I am still teased about it today.

I was terribly OCD as a child. I hated it when my Mother cleaned my room. If she put one thing out of place I would cry. I would slam my door, throw everything on the floor, and cry. I would call my Mother names and forbid her from entering my room. It was sort of the same whenever I attempted to clean my own room. I would start off well. Vacuum the floor, wipe the dust off all the surfaces etc, etc. But then I'd have to put everything back. I would get so frustrated because I couldn't remember exactly where everything went.

So I would cry.

When I was young, I was terrified of being alone. Terrified. for the first couple of weeks at school I would cry whenever my parents left in the morning. I hated sleeping in my own bed. After I realised that I was too old to still be sleeping in my parents bed, I forced my parents to keep the door open and turn the TV up so I would know that they were there. I slept with dozens of toys so I wouldn't feel so alone.

You know what's horrible? Even then, back when I was 9 years old, I still scrutinized my weight. I knew I wasn't fat, but everyone commented on how thin I was. My own Father called me "a rake". Of course, I loved the comments and attention, so I tried to keep myself skinny. I would refuse desert and only eat half my lunch at school. I threw myself into sports for exercise. Every night I stood on the scales in the bathroom and smiled knowing that I hadn't gained anything.

Want to know something even more fucked up? I want my pre-pubescent body back. It was so slim, and I knew the other girls admired it. I can still picture my ribs sticking out as I breathed in and out, the innocent gap between my thighs, and my bony wrist that my friends could encircle with their thumb and pinky.

It's all changed now. But then again it hasn't. I'm still picked on, and am told to keep quiet when the subject of body issues comes up. I guess the only thing that has changed is me.

I'm just tired of it all.

It Was Only A Dream

I have dreams about that room.

I dream that I open the door and my room is a mess. Desk overturned, clothes covering the floor.

But my bed is perfect.

The sheets are perfectly tucked in and the pillow is in the centre. The duvet to pillow ratio is perfect. By this I mean that the top sheet isn't to high so that it covers my face, but it isn't too low so that my shoulders are bare. It's this calm, serene object in a room of chaos.

But on top of the bed is the china doll my grandmother gave me. It has no importance to me, so I don't understand why it's there. It's one of those dolls that when you place it down it closes its eyes, and when you pick it up it opens them. I walk through the mess of my room to my bed, and look down on the doll. I stare at the doll for a bit, then gaze around my room. I ask the doll "Did you do this?"

It remains still, and sleeping.

I ask it again and again, getting more and more frustrated. Finally I pick up the doll, but it doesn't open its eyes. I shake it, and turn it over, but it still remains sleeping.

I finally realise, that it can't wake up so I place it back down on the bed, smooth its little dress and leave the room.

The dream is so vivid. It's constantly etched in my mind and I can play it over and over. Of course I understand its meaning, but I can't understand the china doll. Is it suppose to represent me? Why that doll? It's of no importance to me and never has been. Why not my favourite childhood toy? Why is my bed the only thing that isn't messy? Why is my room messy?

When I wake up, I wake up as if I have just come out of a deep sleep. My eyelids are heavy, and it takes a couple of seconds for my limbs to work. I don't sit bolt upright, eyes wide, heavy breathed and covered in cold sweat. But it haunts me constantly.

What a Week

The other day I was home alone. I was terrifying. I haven't been left alone since, well, you know. I called up a friend of mine (we'll call her R). She came over, and I was a total wreck. At first we talked about everything but what I wanted to say. The weather, her exams, a new pair of shoes I don't have the guts to buy. Finally she said it. The question everyone is too afraid to ask me.

"Was it my fault?"

As Ella mentioned in a previous post, I had sent letters to my friends and family telling them I loved them and that it wasn't their fault.

I lied.

R was looking at me with such an intense look I couldn't lie again. Truth is, it's everyones fault, but then it isn't. I was once comfortable with myself. Perfectly happy with who I was. It wasn't until all my friends started pecking at their flaws, that I decided I was wrong too. I couldn't understand it. In my eyes everyone of them was perfect, still are. If they think their ugly, I must be horrendous to look at. I told her this, and more.

Everything just tumbled out of my mouth. everything. Then R showed me something I still can't believe. She rolled up her top, and there on her perfectly flat, tanned stomach were pink scars. She confessed that she's a self harmer too. Well, she was. For a moment it was like I was staring at a mirror. I could see all my insecurities, flaws and thoughts in her. I wanted to bundle her in my arms and carry her away. She explained how her sisters (she has 3) are always the pretty ones in their friend groups. How they always have boyfriends, and people who constantly admire them. How they are always told how beautiful they are. How she is the "ugly sister".

We cried and hugged for so long. I think I've finally found someone who understands. Someone I can finally confide in, who doesn't sit at a desk with a plaque proclaiming their psychology degree. Don't get me wrong I love Miss Melody, but sometimes I don't think she fully understands.

That's it.

Exercise the Mind

Miss Melody, says writing is good for me. I told her about Skeletal Thoughts and she thought it was simply wonderful that I have a place to write.

Together we formed a list of things I should write about on here, and I'm excited to get started.

The list:

My Bedroom

My parents

My Brother (that'll be tough)

A close friend

Lucia

My future child

My favourite childhood toy (explain why I abandoned it)

An inspirational woman (I can't actually know her personally)

and finally

Myself as I was on that night.

For some of these I have to compose letters and explain my feelings. Others (like childhood toy) are just an exercise to help me come to grips with with loneliness, and how it's shown from the person who's "abandoning" position. I hope you follow that.

Some I'm quite looking forward to starting, others I want to put off as long as possible.

Which one should I start with first?

What of Now?

I’m home now. I got home yesterday evening. It was horrible.
I couldn’t walk into my room, where I did it. I refused. I couldn’t re-live
those final moments. Touching the doorknob forced me to tears. I’m sleeping in my
dad’s study. The couch bed isn’t as comfy as my own, but at least I can sleep
there. I haven’t stepped foot in there, and I don’t plan too. I’m not strong
enough yet. I need more recovery time. That room to me is like a taboo. A
ghastly place that will push me over again.

Everyone is talking about me in hushed voices. I walked into
the kitchen this morning to utter silence, but it was clear they had just been
speaking. About me. I try to shrug it off and make out that everything is fine.
But it’s not. I still feel empty.

Dearest Mother almost agreed to send me to the psych ward for a few more weeks. Thank god I talked her out of that. I could not stand being in that place again (that’s where I was sent for my eating disorder months ago). But then again I don’t want to be
here. Mother is still leaning towards Psych Ward, so if I so much as shed one tear over anything, that’s where I’ll be. So it’s back to being perfect Alex. I can’t express emotion anywhere but
therapy, which I don’t even though my therapist is so lovely (Miss Melody, how wonderful).

I can’t take this year’s exams because I’m too “fragile”. They
begin this Thursday. I’ve passed, but I won’t be getting any special
endorsements or anything. So I can’t exactly see any friends as they’ll be
studying hard. It’s funny though, I’ve been getting a lot of attention lately
from my friends. Even people I have barely said one word too have made me
cards. It’s overwhelming and thoughtful, and I certainly do appreciate it, but
I can’t help but wonder if it’s just because I’m suddenly interesting, because I
stepped outside the boundaries of ‘normal’. I have seen people from school, who have come
over to pay a visit. Do they just want to see me pale and gaunt and know that
this is what defeat looks like? I am still unsure, but I try my best and thank
them for coming. I do appreciate it, I really do! But I can’t help but wonder.

So here I am. This is what life’s like after. I’m struggling, but I’m moving (forward I
hope). I’m home, and it feels right to be outside the hospital walls, it was
tiring in there, a room by yourself with only approved movies to watch (think
Daddy Day Care, and Cheaper by the Dozen). I counted the holes in the ceiling for
an entire 3 hours just to pass some time (3,528). I can finally breathe fresh
air, and see more than the car park out my window. I’m sick of being stuck in
this position, I always was. I thought I made the right move, but I didn’t.
Time to make the right one.

Thank You

I've been sitting here for a while trying to think of how to perfectly say Thank You to all of you who tried to help me in what was most definitely 'my darkest hour'. But that's the thing, I can't form the perfect sentences for a perfect thank you. I've been told so much over the past two weeks that "perfection is an illusion" and "Perfect does not exist." I'm so lost as too what is perfect anymore. I thought I had it in my head, I was convinced perfect was the way I saw it. But turns out it's not. What I thought was perfect is apparently 'disgusting, and 'sickening' to everyone else.
But that's not the point of this post. the point of this post is to thank everyone of you that tried for me and who showed that you cared for me 'that night'.

americaneaglelove - Your four posts were so kind and generous. I appreciate that you were willing to stay up ALL night for me, and your posts made me smile for the first time since I 'tried'. Your post on you blog letting everyone of your readers know that they are beautiful people is gorgeous and makes me realise that I should do this more often. You have a stunning way of writing and i hope that you pursue a career in it one day.

Di-anna - I greatly appreciate your willingness to talk to me personally, and I take that straight to heart. You are so sweet and lovely and wonderful, and for some reason remind me of a White Rabbit (positive). Please know that you are not a bad person and don't be afraid to fall in love. It could be the best thing that every happened to you, and you WILL grow from it.

missinsanity. - I've had many experiences, and perhaps one day I can share them with you. I am sad to hear of your lack of sleep, blue nails and vicious cycles. i know you can overcome this and i am here for you, just like you were there for me.

miss
alisha - You're comment released the tears that had been brimming in my eyes. I care for you on a personal level too. I've read through every post on your blog, and actually consider you a friend. Words can not describe how much I appreciated you reaching out to your own readers to make sure I was okay. It's probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done. I am still weak, but I have found a little strength (it' probably the piece you gave me). i admire you're courage to move on from M and I hope someday i can have that kind of courage too.

movesnmunchies - I appreciate your honesty in telling me that you don't read my blog. That's okay, the fact that you were willing to help someone you didn't even know existed is a tremendous thing, and you should be proud of this. I do not know of your previous situation, but it is inspiring to know that someone can come from where I am and be a better person because of it.

ivy - I may not you that well either, but the fact that you comforted me is a positive in my book. Who know perhaps we will know each other better in the future? You seem like a lovely girl and i am quite envious of your blog as it is so visually beautiful.

Thin
Thrills - i loved you're almost brutal comment. It was a wake up call and I appreciate it. i love how down to earth you are, and that you write with a kind of comedic style. It stands out in a positive way. I'm kinda addicted to your blog now ha ha.

lilulak - *HUGS* you're post was the sweetest thing, and you remind me of my friend who had been through the same thing. Lindsey? If this is you, thanks. If not, I really do think you should begin blogging again. I've been through the majority of your posts, and need some more to read!

Sarah - I hope me affecting you wasn't a burden, but you did affect my day in a positive way. you made me stop and think. You got em to realise that I didn't know that death was any better than life, and that's why I should fear it, at least until I can be friends with it. That's the thing, I thought I was friend with death. I thought I was ready to meet it liking seeing long lost friend. But I was wrong, and I thank you for showing me the truth. I have always wanted kids, and sometimes think of who they'd be. I know realise I need to be there to show my children all the light in the world.

désespérée de maigrir - First off I love your name. i don't know any French beyond 'oui' despite studying it for two years, so i had to put it into google translate. thank you, I know there must be tons of people who love you and you must have boys dropping at your feet.

Adelia - believe me I am not strong in all senses of the word. but I've been told that behind every strong figure is a humble one who is ready to comfort them when they fall. I'm the humble one, which I guess makes you the strong one.

Jldickso - You're right, the dark times are the longest. But it's the light ones that make life worth living. I can't imagine everything being perfect in a year, but hopefully in a couple or so. Thank you for praying for me, and i promise that it will not go to waste. You have a beautiful outlook on life, I think I'm beginning to see it. Thank you for leaving contact details, and opening your doors to me, it means the world.

I think this post is long enough, so I'll leave it for now and catch you up on the details next time. I love you all, and am ecstatic to have such beautiful people as readers!
xoxoxoxoxooxox