Don't remember what I wrote last time. Don't care. If there's something I write that doesn't make sense, you can ask about it.

So apparently I'm back to restricting. Only for like the last 2 days, but it doesn't have that "it's going to end soon" feeling. I b/ped earlier because I was so desperate to eat some of the new food in my house but I absolutely could not keep any of it in. I had binge urges later in the night but I staved it off for quite awhile, then allowed 1 Greek yogurt. Earlier I had a pear and an individual portion of cheese (some of which apparently came up with the binge). And of course there was the cream/milk in my coffees. (I had two.)

It feels like so much food. Especially considering the calories in the coffees. But the truth is that my body is literally begging for more, and I can see myself heading down a path really fast where I'm b/ping every day to keep the restriction going. That's what I did last time I was restricting, and I can't see it changing anytime soon. It's the only way I can simultaneously deal with the food obsession, keep hunger away, and still lose weight. Coffee keeps hunger away but if I drink more than a cup at a time I start getting really angry and irritable and just really awful-feeling. I wish caffeine didn't do that to me, but apparently that's how my body handles it. Cigarettes, if I was to pick up smoking again, give me good, non-anxious energy but make me REALLY hungry. Diet soda only stops hunger for a short while, then my body gets a little hungrier than it was before, because I think it expects sugar because I just drank something sweet, but all it gets is aspartame. So it's like... I have no real options. Any other drink would either have more artificial sweetener or just be water, and water's the WORST thing to drink if I don't want to be hungry (it makes me famished). And I am really not a tea person... not that I'm convinced it would make me much less hungry.

How to be less hungry? I have been devoting so much thought to it. Or ways to outsmart the hunger, such that even if I want to binge, I do not. Like right after I take my night meds. They make me soooo FUCKING hungry. Stupid Seroquel is the cause of that. But without that exact dose I can't stay mentally stable. So I get into bed, allow myself to daydream about the food if I want, then wait for the sedation/sleep to take me over. Also I make sure to drink like 2 cups worth of fluid with the meds, which temporarily tricks the body into thinking I'm full-ish -- long enough to get to sleep.

I'm already colder. Of course the weight loss doesn't really show yet, but I lost weight a week or two ago and almost all of THAT weight loss seems to be back. Maybe a couple more pounds till I'm back there. I don't know the exact number because I don't have a scale... but I plan on changing that. I feel like I need to know the number to be SURE I'm actually losing weight, instead of tricking myself into thinking I am. How can I be sure my metabolism doesn't fuck up on me? Things like that. I need certainty. And my brain, of course, loves obsessing about numbers everything.

As for other things... I am getting horridly avoidant. I think it has a big role in ED coming back, actually. What better way to avoid a) responsibility in the world and b) my own strong emotions and mood swings, than making myself eating disordered? Nobody expects me to do anything if I'm weak and malnourished, and if I starve long enough I go numb and feel almost nothing. So, yes, I guess part of this is purposeful -- but part of it is because the outside world, and outside committments, have become absolutely terrifying to me, and I feel I can't explain why with the REAL reason and have anybody understand. I feel sure, for example, that my psychiatrist would tell me something like, "Just keep going and doing it... it will get easier." But it WON'T. I mean, soon the choirs would have performances, and in one of the choirs we have a choir dress, which not only was made full-length sleeved only on my gown (scars) but also may or may not fit me if my weight is bouncing around. I told her to order it too big if she wasn't sure, so she ordered the size 8 based on, I believe, my stomach measurements (it would have been a 6 otherwise). Because that's where I ALWAYS get fat first, because I'm an apple shape. Meanwhile my arms stay tiny and my thighs grow some, but I can still see most of the bones on the sides of my knees, and on my ankles the round bones still stick out greatly on either side. This remains so even when my belly and lower back grow fat, and I have to up my pants size, and I can't see my hipbones anymore. I mean, what gives?? That's just fucked up.

Anyway, performances just create more and more anxiety, because then I worry about screwing up, even more so than in practice... and of course we're on display in front of people, and I wonder if I've slipped a sleeve a bit and anyone can see my scars, or if my stomach looks huge, or if people are looking at me and thinking I'm too small, or what people are thinking when they see me. And maybe it's overthinking, but it won't even be a thought process when it happens -- it'll just be a horrible, awful dread of even going. Which it's become already. I can't see the situation IMPROVING when all that will happen is learning more and more repertoire, and doing between the two choirs probably at least 4-6 performances minimum. How the fuck is somebody avoidant, terrified of what people think of her and how they will judge her, supposed to deal with that shit? Apparently... I just can't. Well, unless I have ED. But ED will quickly make me far too weak to sing, so I still can't go to choir and participate the way I need to. But it's easier to blame it on "having a hard time" with the ED instead of admitting how crazy my brain is. I don't know. The whole thing is stupid, but I've never learned how to deal with the avoidant parts of my head, so I still have no idea how. All I know to do when I get that terrified is to run, run, run.

Now that I've done this, though... retreated... I am much calmer in everyday life. I can think about different things now, like finally changing the cat's litterbox, or actually cleaning my kitchen, or doing a bunch of things on Instagram with my fandom. I was spending every ounce of mental energy before merely on surviving the day. Memory? Forget it. Dates, times, numbers, names... any specifics would completely go out of my head. I couldn't remember a damned thing. My memory still isn't the greatest at this point, but it's a lot better than it was. I remember some things that people say to me now. Whereas during the last couple of weeks before restriction I can't even tell you what I did on any particular day, or who I talked to, or what we said. Generalities for some things maybe, but the specifics are all gone. How is that any way to live a life?

And, yes, I know ED is no way to live a life, either. But the fact of the matter is that I don't have ANY idea how to live a normal life. I've never been normal, and ever since the parts of me that are diagnosable have exploded, I've felt absolutely out of control when it comes to what my head decides to do to me. Unless... I take ED into my hands. Unless I control what goes in, and what goes out. Unless, when I decide the number on the scale WILL drop, it DOES drop. It's the only way I've figured out that actually keeps the chaos at bay for a little while. And for a borderline girl with dysthymia, anxiety, and avoidant traits... keeping chaos at bay is a damned blessing.

And, really, if either way my day to day life is hardly liveable, and I remember things more and enjoy things better in this moment when I have ED, is it such a bad thing? I know it will get worse later. But my life still won't be any worse than it was. With BPD I'm in emotional agony most of the day, with mood swings and extreme reactivity to life situations that I can't control most of the time. With dysthymia I'm constantly doubting the world and everything in it, not to mention myself, and I doubt the meaning of existence -- I doubt that human beings have any ACTUAL purpose, and I'm de-energized, and I don't have a whole lot of hope for my future when I'm like that. As you can imagine, the two intermingle very badly, and my days can be pretty fucking awful without much ever happening. And when things DO happen... well, that's when I have major crashes, like cuts that need a bunch of stitches, or suicide attempts.

And the avoidant thing... well, when things get really bad or really stressful, I bolt. I don't even attempt to have intimate(romantic) relationships because even the thought of it feels so overwhelming. And I just don't do dating. I would want to go out with someone, and I would want to know them fairly well before it ever became a relationship. I could do courtship better than dating... that is, IF I wasn't gay. The lesbian community is pretty big not only on dating, but on getting very attached very quickly. I couldn't handle that. So not only can I not have a relationship ANYway, the tendency for people I'm attracted to is exactly the opposite of my own proclivities. I always need to take things slowly, so I don't get overwhelmed. I honestly don't think many lesbian or bisexual girls would understand that, especially if they've lived in that fast lane of lesbian culture for any period of time. Courtship is seen as a very old and conservative ritual anyway, and the lesbian community is, of course, generally extremely liberal, and also extremely sexual. I may be liberal myself in terms of social values, but I am very conservative with relationships. Which just isn't acceptable to most people in the culture, or so I've gathered. Lovely extra HUGE barrier put in my way.

I just... can't figure out my place in this world. And I have so much going on mood- and anxiety-wise that unless I have a place, a purpose, something to wake up for every day, it's simply too strong to fight. It's the purpose that would give me the will to carry on. I know that if I had a reason, a REAL reason, to live, I could and would fight against every obstacle in my way, including all this disordered shit. Only I don't have that kind of reason. I am not spiritual; I am agnostic, but I'm more of an atheistic agnostic. I don't believe in any religion I've ever heard of, except maybe some aspects of paganism, and only because I know that most of the forces of nature are much stronger than humans. (Don't hurricanes kill humans and tear down very solid infrastructures? Don't fires burn houses to the ground? Can't floods wipe out entire bridges, roads, cities?) I have no religion or spiritual anything to cling to for hope or purpose. I refuse to let myself believe in something I know I don't believe in just so I can have that comfort. So... where is the purpose? What is the reason for living?

I've been having an existential crisis for years. Add to that BPD, dysthymic disorder, traits of avoidant personality disorder, and EDNOS... and you've got one totally fucked-up girl. I can't keep a job, and I can't go to school full time. I live in social assistance. I spend a lot of days alone with my computer, iPhone, Kobo eReader, and books -- and I'm mostly completely okay with that. In fact, right now I prefer it. The Internet and my phone are my ways to socialize, and there's a lot of stuff I can do with all these things at my disposal. I can keep myself occupied. I can find someone to talk to anytime, even if no friends are on and all I can do is go on Omegle and talk to a random stranger who also has the interest "depression". Hell, I could go on tinychat. There's no limit, really, on the Internet. It's like NYC, only it's the world that never sleeps. The more-than-a-world. The Internet as a whole really is so much bigger and grander than the world. And don't take that as internet worshipping or something dumb like that -- I just realize how much power it can and does have on lives every single day. It changed my own life completely. And without it, I would not be writing these words that you are now reading, and I would certainly not have another outlet for any of the things I've written here.

I'm tired now and should take sleep meds... and NOT BINGE... I will NOT FUCKING BINGE!!! My stomach can shut up and go to hell. I'm just sick of all this shit, and I want out. Whatever form that has to take. I want out.