Just out from a mental health stay. I was so structured in there. Restriction came back. But not that I’m out, I’m conflicted between alcohol and food.

Some days, counting calories helps to reduce alcohol content.

On others, alcohol replaces food, but if I drink too much, I become famished and eat.

This is a tormented place to be. Control to no control. Let go, to abandonment.

I don’t know which is worse.

The calorie fight

Just out from a mental health stay. I was so structured in there. Restriction came back. But now that I’m out, I’m conflicted between alcohol and food.

Some days, counting calories helps to reduce alcohol content.

On others, alcohol replaces food, but if I drink too much, I become famished and eat.

This is a tormented place to be. Control to no control. Let go, to abandonment.

I don’t know which is worse.

Verdict: Guilty.

Feeling so guilty; such a terrible person.

How could I do this?

I have to deal. I have to feel.

I don’t know if I can handle this flood of guilt.

I want to hurt myself, punish myself for my abhorrence.

I deserve to feel like this.

I took advantage, I crossed a boundary.

I want to be perfect, I can’t cope with my fuck ups.

I know people care but perhaps they should not because of who I am.

I don’t deserve to be part of your crowd, bringing you down, making you frown.

Its all so helpless.

I don’t deserve to be treated nice, to show my spice.

Just use me til I am empty.

Depleting the life out of me

My cupcake has crumbled and re-birthed as an Anaconda. That sugary sweetness disintegrated to crumbs on a dirty floor, entwining with an opposing ilk, and rising transformed with wicked wantonness, slithering for the kill.

(May or may not finish this)

Pause

Not a stop, but a moment of stillness between the movement that’s made, and before the movement continues.

There’s something here.

Something that needs to be done, or thought, or felt.

Is something wrong or something right?

Or maybe it’s neither.

Maybe it’s just a moment to regather.

Maybe it’s a moment to be mindful of the present.

Is it a frozen moment?

Is there a slight swish of movement inside the pause?

Nevertheless it is rest, and it is temporary.

How long does the temporary last? Is it a whole 4/4 rest, or semi breve rest? Is the rest over several bars?

Where does the pausing start and end?

(This is a draft and unedited. Just jotted it down while waiting for the gym to open)

Appease

Trigger warning: Themes around sexual assault.

I learnt something new this week. Unexpectedly. The excitement exuded from my brain, travelling with force through my skin.

I mean, I had heard about the flight/fight/freeze response. What I learnt, and had not been aware of, was the addition of appease.

Appease – to paraphrase dictionary.com, it’s to bring a state of pacification, to concede to a demand.

Floored. In an instant that excitement drained away like the brilliance of the sunshine abandoning my skin and hiding into the dreary dark clouds.

It’s fascinating how a memory can fuse to a common understanding of a visceral experience! Yet here I am now procrastinating, avoiding what I need to really express.

More important than the above rational and mental perspective, is the emotional fallout.

I am left alone, disgust weaving with fear and blending into a palate of colour I had not seen before. The shame I felt earlier swirled and began transforming into something else.

This man I fell quickly and deeply in love with had violated my boundaries. I had stated my boundaries twice already.

One, two. 1) 2). Uno, dos. No matter what formation, language or font is used, it was communicated twice.

At the time I froze instantly, but moments later I falsely believed I allowed this to happen. Yet I had not allowed it at all. Frozen for a few moments, then melting into appeasement. I thought that was how I could make it okay, that I was safe.

Can you ever be safely used?

Yet when it was over and I realised I was sucking my thumb, like a child wanting comfort, I became scared of myself.

“Get up. Smile. You love him.” This silent motivation in my head thrusted me to appeasement once again. Silent sacrifices tell me this is okay because to me, this man is perfect. I could not in that invisible juncture discern that he could be anything but faultless.

But now? Understanding appeasement?

This is a whole other story.

Guess who’s back

Back again…

Heartlectics back,

writing’s your friend.

Guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back … woah oh ho.

(Those who know the song will can’t help but sing this entry lol)

Bad ownership

Today’s profound moment opened at therapy. K was using a technique called ‘stacking the deck’. I felt so hopeless about work and how I seem to do everything wrong. So she asked me to recall times in my life that I thought I did something well, or something right.

I could easily come up with times during my work that I have done something great and how I felt and thought about it. Then she asked me about other areas in my life. Like in my family. I sat on the couch for a while, racking my brain for things. K thought it was interesting that work examples came easily but with my family I was finding it more difficult. She could think of things herself straight away. I eventually gave some examples, which were practical things I had done, but she could think of other more caring and supportive examples of my parenting.

Here comes the clincher…

With my children, when they do something negative, I believed that they got that from me. When they do something positive, I attribute that to them.

I hadn’t realised that was in my belief system till now.

It’s eye opening and helpful. I can work on letting go of the belief that is not serving me well. That I am somehow inherently bad and gave parts of this to my children.

I will keep stacking the deck when I think this so I can get it balanced before I shuffle.

Hard day

Today will hard. Most of the people I made friends with here are leaving today.

I hit the murky encompassing darkness a month ago. I didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. Yet here I am again, in a clinic, wading through the hurt.

Here you find a place of pure understanding. The patients share a common experience and it’s only natural you will come to care for them. Until the day comes when they go back to their lives outside these protective walls, to rebuild and attempt living. While I am happy for them, and wish them all the best, I am also sad. This sadness is compounded by many leaving on the same day. The sadness sits deep when one of them is your favourite. I will miss her smile, her laugh, her beautiful hair and deep caring eyes. There is so much love and fun in her being, that you don’t ever want her to leave… it’s comforting just sitting near her, knowing she is there. I will miss her. My heart is aching.

Today will be a hard day, so I will be gentle with myself. Its okay to ride the wave of sadness.

Is this goodbye?

I am not managing depression,

It is controlling me.

The emptiness is full,

And all that I can see.

Inside I am trembling,

But I have lost all hope.

Unable to continue,

let the slack come off the rope.