Arizona crossroads

 I had a good deal of time where self respect was the mantra on my mind. 

I decided that I have no self respect. If I had self respect I would be clean. I would be motivated to organize. I would want to get better. I would want and pursue companionship. I would seek to satisfy my life instead of only doing my best to suffer small. 

Others in my life have pain. But I find if I concentrate fully on their personality flaws I can dismiss their plights. I wonder if anyone can do the same to me. I can be quite an annoying person.

I'll passionately involve myself when it suits my interests. And when I'm disinterested I will swiftly drift away. 

The number for my weight when I last stepped on the scale was close to 130lbs. Thats a good normal. I mean its as good as I'm gong to get with this mental state. I keep doing one meal a day because I have no respect for my body. I could blame a lack of hunger ques, but that is just a consequence of a battle I fought long ago. A long time ago I used to anguish over how ravenous my appetite would get. And how it felt impossible to just not eat. And now its the easiest thing. Its the path of least resistance. I feel like what I learned is useful in treating eating disorders. 

When you narrow the options for comfort foods, and then you only eat comfort foods... then you end up in a situation where the comfort food isn't enough sustenance. Its difficult to have a whole cupboard with nothing but chocolate covered pretzels, but sometimes that feels like the only meal I'd allow myself to eat. 

I used to get frustrated when I saw this behavior in others. But I wanted to understand. I didn't want to combat their feelings. I just now realize I'm in the same place that they were. And its years beyond. Its like those nightmares I sometimes have where I'm forced to retake honors English 10 while I'm 29 years old at the high school I went to. Funnily enough I already retook that class once while I was a senior. 

I'd honestly have a great time, but I'd also be in hives from the embarrassment of being a full grown idiot adult in a classroom like that. 

I had a 2 minute conversation with a friend about how emotionally underwhelming near death experiences are. I never even considered my near death experience as an important event while I was experiencing it. I was honestly thinking to myself how I was sad I couldn't move, and how it was surprisingly not as painful as an ear infection or toothache.

What this conversation truly enlightened was how emotionally impactful events matter so much more than life or death. Its things like love, mental illness, the decision to abandon something that took years to build, or the decision to start something new... that ARE life and death to soul. Those are where the trauma is geographically located. 

Accidentally putting a Nintendo switch into my sock drawer was what motivated me to get a job above poverty wages while I was a student. And while I've abandoned being a student since then, my life has been more satisfying since. I think about how low I feel now, and I feel like I can look back and see a canyon behind me. 

You know what I'd love to do though?

I'd love to climb a mountain someday.

A calling

 Deaf people will tell you that being deaf is not a disability. 

There are many people with hearing that do not want to imagine living life 'without' music. 

I personally view mental illness not being a disability the same way that deaf people regard inability to hear as not being a disability.

Sure... I have whole days I waste away.

Sometimes I waste because I purposely didn't refuel. Sometimes its wasted because I spent all my mental energy convincing myself a normal meal is something I deserved today. Sometimes I just dont have motivation. I'm sure normal people are like this.

Just like how people that adore music don't want to imagine a world without it: I do not like imagining a world where I do not feel as alive. I get too much purpose from breaking myself.

I love waking up early. I'm often in such a rush I dont eat. I'm stuck doing whatever I'm doing so I dont eat. And by the time most of my waking day is gone I can have a meal and it wont ever make up for my current deficit. But it also gives me as much sunshine as possible. It lets me shop before things close. I could even visit people, but I dont know how social I'll continue to be. I'm currently in a phase where I dont feel like I deserve the company of others. I feel like I have to fix particles of myself before I enjoy myself with others. I shouldn't be trusted. It is ill mannered of me to talk to others when I have no control over how poisonous I am. 

I'm sure there was more I wanted to say. But I'll leave this post here. I havent said anything, but that isn't unusual at all for me.

Destiny is a full time job

 Oddly enough I hate sleeping in. Often it ruins all my plans, and to me my plans are worth more than my health. I mean at least that is coherent with the eating disorder.

The worst part about sleeping in is how difficult it is to sleep the next day. At midnight I wont be tired at all, and often it will stretch later into the night. Then I'll be forced to sleep in the next day, the restless hours will prolong and eventually I'll be sleeping when the sun rises. 

Its such a small complaint just because I easily make do with it. The concept of sleeping in still irks me. 

I'm glad I didn't take advantage of the most recent lady to be attracted to me. She said something to me about how everyone meets someone for a reason. And I knew to her it meant that I was linked to her by destiny.

I do believe that, I just believe that destiny is also something that can simply be made. I can destiny myself into running a marathon. I destiny'd myself into being underweight. 

Perhaps the way I describe it can be perceived as demeaning. But I think the meaning I am looking for is that uncontrollable destiny can still be slightly controlled. 

Damns can at least tell you where the flood will occur when they fail. And so my best efforts to create a destiny where I die to my own mind can likewise be an overfilled drowning simulator. 

I've always wondered if I could be a healthcare provider for people that have mental illness. Because when I see self inflicted wounds I empathize to my core. And I have a craving to share deeper. 

I don't know if I could work with that around me.

But I do know I'd like it.

black dream muted

 It feels like its too late for my mind. I mean I'm already mentally ill. What even is the cure after being mentally broken? Does everything- medication, meditation, mediation, mastication- all middle down into damage control? Erasers are a concept that paper and whiteboards know. Memories aren't so easy to clean ink stains from.

Yet still I wonder when its actually too late. Sometimes I lose the connection with joy like its a song that stopped playing or a video put on mute. The perception disabled. 

I picked up the easiest book I could because I had 2 books with markers in them that I haven't been able to joy. 

And then the 12th page of harry potter and the philosopher's stone made me cry. It was close enough to joy for me to put the book down and enter a sleep inked fully black.

 

My will to communicate feels broken too. I delete messages to everyone and hours later I realize I never sent anything.

 So why am I waiting for a reply?

 

I wonder if I can focus enough to make something. Not of myself, as I'm as worthless as the junk fort I live in. Something out of the thoughts I have.

 

 

I'm not currently sure what a coherent plan is. 

I did write something to the-void

 

Ive been eating my favorite foods and for some reason it feels ashen within me. It dies as soon as i swallow it and i feel rotten inside.

[11:21 PM]

I feel so much more satisfied empty lately

 

Break them both

 Its always about my weight. And when I was in the hospital I was 119lbs again (6'1" height).

 

I've held dear a perspective of desiring to be the good guy. Sometimes I'll do the noble thing when it hurts and I feel nothing but desire to divulge in my devil just because I want to be the good guy. I'm definitely not convincing myself with that act. I'm just marinating myself in innocence sauce in front of others. 

Can you believe I spent 6 days in the hospital?

 

Hospital food is criminal. I wanted to puke it just to give them a lesson at how unbearable it is. I don't need luxury, but I don't want to feel like I'm being tortured into being cured. I hope prisons have better food honestly. 

Quarantine is easier when I feel like I deserve to be lonely. I get to self indulge in emotional turmoil freely. Its just a great excuse to backtrack on progressing to feel better. 

Do I really want to feel better?

Or am I just avoiding pain?

One of the more entertaining parts of my discharge is that I was given iron pills for anemia, but then I was given 5 laxatives for the constipation of the iron. My shit was black for at least 5 days from those pills. And they kill my hunger. But I didn't take any of the laxatives. Because you don't need those if you eat vegetarian the way I do.

Still... the greatest hunger suppressant for me is heartbreak. I broke someone else's heart, and it recoiled back to me. Its so strange to me how even though I feel sensation-less I look back at the feeling and crave it. Something about being so emotionally numb that I physically feel like I'm swallowing krypton makes me feel as though this is peak lifetime experience. When I'm so upset that my brain runs in circles so fast I feel oxygen deprived enough to drown on air. Its like skydiving, but also landing without a parachute over and over and over. 

I did that to someone else... and also to myself. Its only fair right?

I'm sure I'm not even sorry and I'd do it again if I was given a chance. I even think I deserve another chance. 

I think about my hospitalization over and over... and I'd break them both again if given the chance.

Page 171

This book is so intense. I was going to read another chapter and go to sleep. I knew in the back of my mind that something terrible was about to happen. As I broke through the words the feeling crept to the prefrontal cortex. Now I wonder if I can sleep after reading that.


Fiction is insane.

I don't see why anyone would want to read about the real world or even interact with it when fiction has the potential to be so much greater than anything physical. When fiction lives up to its destiny its like an infection.

Unavoidable.
Transmittable.
Permeable.
Lethal.


I think in all my time with calorie restriction I've only ever fasted 5 days of my life. Today I had reduced meal frequency, but physically I feel like I can't handle an empty tank.

I'm actually reassured by my weakness.



I've been a useless, developmentally slow adult for a while now. I'd like to blame it on my low wage and the inflexibility I have to change my routine. I even rationalize my starving by saying its just the starving wages. When I see other people spend money it feel like they belong in another world. Maybe they are just as unreal as the fiction I read...



When I'm deeper in the book I'll drop its name.
I should be careful who I recommend this book to, because unlike the other books that I've read that swallow you up and spit you out this one has some real teeth. I feel like I'm experiencing the trauma of the characters just from believing its possible this could happen. This is more brutal than the book about contagious blindness and society falling apart when no one could see. Its fast and stylistic like an Ellen Hopkins book. But crude, unlike her poetry. This makes it more believable. There are gaps in the story, but you know whats happening.


I never finished my other book. I may have even left that at my parents' house. In fact, I started this book saying that I gave up on not starting it.

Maybe I should adopt that attitude a bit more. I should give up on being a total failure. I should give up being poor. Afraid. Lonely. Broken. Messy. Unreliable. An escapist. Weak. Lazy. Worthless.



I should give up
Every
thing

Blue Screen

I remember reading long ago how strange it is that blue isn't the color of many foods. It was hypothesized that the color would have appetite suppressing effects, or at the very least not stimulate appetite because its not as alluring as the colors red or green.


I was never quite satisfied with blue being that simple. After all, if we had taken what we now call a green light and just used blue instead our associations with the color could be changed entirely. Sometimes something fits into its place and then we try to talk in a way to make it fit even more into its niche.


I feel blue.
I have people telling me why its good that I lost 5 years of hair. People that tell me I'm on the path to success when I do nothing for myself.

Its so sad too because I know what I want, but I have no desire to attain it.




I also know that I'm crippled. The battery life on my phone feels like it has a direct plug into my sanity. As it approaches zero I feel the rapids pull me towards panic, and yet I've fallen down that drain before. I know how calm it is to be in the eye of the whirlpool. But I hate it there because there is nothing to occupy my mind and all I have to look at is blue.

I don't want a blue screen.