There seem to be so many different things my mind is trying to process currently. I get so ADD sometimes that I move so quickly from one thought to another that I never have time to work through even a single thing, just little pieces of five million different things.
Douchebag rapist has been messaging again. Sometimes I don’t even read the messages and just delete them. Sometimes I read them and laugh at his stupidity. I am over him and his empty threats currently. But, the memories, not so much. What he is saying currently kind of flies over my head– I am a completely different person than I was when those things were happening to me. However, it doesn’t take away all of the memories and flashbacks I have of all of the things he has done to me.
I barely slept at all since Friday. MAYBE three hours each night?
And yet, it was still a chore to even climb out of my bed. I think I spent the majority of the weekend in bed under the covers either reading or watching Netflix on my ipad. I would get up to eat or to let my dogs out.
Currently I want nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep until tomorrow.
An old friend of mine, one whom I hurt very badly, recently started talking to me again. It has been the most amazing thing in the world. I missed talking to her so much, but didn’t blame her when she had originally left. But, we’ve been texting and facebooking back and forth constantly for almost a week now. It feels good. We used to talk for hours every day.
I’ve finally lost a bit more weight. But I am starting to think it will never be enough. Logically I can see myself getting smaller. I see that my yoga pants are too big, that my fairly new jeans don’t fit right anymore. But… all I see is fat, loose skin, and too many scars. I am starting to feel that I will have to get to 100 pounds to even start to like my legs at all.
I think I am completely done with men. I have never been a huge fan of men, but now I am just done.
Men like to take charge. Men like to be the boss of everything. Men think they know everything. And a man will always be bigger and stronger than me and can always physically hurt me if he wants to. I can’t even think about being around a man again.
I slipped up and cut last week? I think it was last week. A part of me regrets it, but only for the scars it will leave. Another part of me wants to start cutting again, just instead of the deep cuts I like doing, just a shit ton of shallow, superficial ones that will let me get my frustration out, but in the end won’t leave a scar.
I think I am going to ask my psychiatrist to up my prozac. I’ve been in the thought process of hating myself even more so than usual. I just don’t see what point I serve. I am just a lazy fatass who takes up resources and space, and the world won’t miss me if I am gone. But, I can’t even think about my dog going to a shelter if I were to do something, so that will always keep me around.
I just want the images to go away. I want to be able to lay down and go straight to sleep without a care in the world. I want to not hear a song and cry because I am so pathetic.
I feel so hurt and betrayed by life right now. I must have been so fucking horrible in my past life to be where I am in life today.
And I know where I am in life is my fault.
I could suck it up. I could move. I could get a big girl job. I could date.
But, in the end, I just don’t think I am capable of anything. I am just so miserable and tired that I seriously feel like I deserve an award for getting dressed in the morning.