feelings – Page 8 – Honest Lies

“Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow kind, perhaps in the nook of a cousin universe I’ve never defiled or betrayed anyone.”

Its been a while since I posted about my eating difficulties. Its not something that is easy to post about – it feels absurd and ridiculous still that I have something like this, and it doesn’t feel serious enough to really be worthy of attention. But I read an article today about eating difficulties and it made me thoughtful. Well, it made me sad.

I don’t think I’m getting better. By which, I don’t think I’m developing a healthier relationship with food or my body. I’ve bought new clothes, force myself to eat good, healthy meals as often as I can, and not to make up for binge eating by starving….but. I still find myself twisting in front of the mirror, trying to find bones, despairing over the face that they are not there, at the roundness of my belly, of the width of my thighs, of my new stretch marks, of the blemishes on my face and the roundness of it too – I feel grossly overweight and unattractive and unable to convince myself otherwise. I find myself trying to stand a little taller sometimes, trying to sit a little straighter, to hide the way my belly rolls. I find myself not bothering with makeup and ignoring half my wardrobe- not feeling worthy of it. Makeup especially – there doesn’t seem to be much point when the canvas is all wrong. I find myself binge eating, still. Far too much. Not as great amounts, and not as often, but still too much, too often. I am always thinking about food, more now than ever actually. I’ll be totally overwhelmed by the need to binge, and unable to focus on anything else, or I’ll find myself considering my meals, trying to weigh up what will be healthiest and how much to have. If I’ve had a packet of crisps or a small chocolate bar as a snack I’ll either feel the need to compensate by making an especially healthy, small meal or think well, I’ve already failed and give in to binging, depending on my mood. I don’t want to eat, but I keep eating, and even eating my three good meals feels so wrong. I feel I need to do something about the way I look, and if only I had the willpower. I find myself looking at other girls, comparing myself and coming up at a loss.

I’m always watching other people – noting their figures, noting the way they dress, their smiles, the things they talk about. Straight legged girls, or girls with beautiful toned curves. Girls with clear skin and glossy hair. How two girl friends walking home in the rain lightly hold onto each others wrists as they squeeze together under one umbrella, how a woman on the phone tells someone she misses them, two students discussing a secret room in a club they can never find again once they leave, a girl wearing heels for no apparent reason than she wanted to.

I feel helpless against it.

I realize that I am probably willing myself not to get better. In fact, I may be feeling bitter about being better, may be longing for the days when food meant nothing to me and I did not have to eat, could easily get by with just a tiny amount of the stuff, and binging on a bar of chocolate was enough to get the high I craved. I want to be thin and clear skinned again – that was how I was. It probably wasn’t quite so magical, but I’ve formed this ideal in my head and the fact that I once had it in order to really make me feel bad about not still being it. I may be clinging onto my illness, too scared to let it go, puzzled by what would be left without it. If I am feeling stressed and lonely, what can I do except eat, to give me some joy. If I don’t eat I find myself on online shops, making useless purchases, anything to fill the emptiness and to make me feel happy.

I find it hard to feel happy these days. I find myself too scared and anxious over happiness. If I allow myself to feel positive and hopeful, what if it doesn’t make a difference? My mother keeps telling me to think positively, and then things will work out. But what if they don’t?

The “What if’s” gnaw at me, all the time. I feel a sense of dread, a firm belief deep in my gut that something bad is going to happen. Not it may, it will. Something bad is about to happen. I don’t know what.

I’ve faced failure a lot over these past few years- mainly academic. But that is just in paper – I feel like as a person I’ve perhaps grown up in the wrong way. I feel a little broken, and more than a little detached from everything going on around me, looking in and not understanding, being unable to cross over into that world. Perhaps I am in a parallel universe, looking into this strange and foreign place and longing for it, but unable to be part of it.

I’m hurting over the loss of my best friend – who I have not heard from in months, and who has been drifting away from me for years. I really need her right now, but she doesn’t need me. I don’t have anyone else. I have coworkers who I can chat to, I have my family, I have my driving instuctor so its not like I go without human contact, but I never connect with people. There is no one who I can really talk to. I don’t know though. I feel disconnected from the people around me, I do not know what to say, and antagonize and regret anything I do say. I don’t know how to make friends, or be friendly, and it feels like I’m now at the age where I’ve lost the chance to have the friends who you read about in novels or see in films – those long time friends who know you inside out, who are always there for you, and who do their best to be there for you. I lost my last friend this year, she drifted away and outgrew me, who is so childish and difficult and withdrawn. Now I am losing my sister to the same thing – to adulthood, to her growing up and changing. I am missing my sister too, in fact. Why am I always the one being left behind? Because there is something wrong with you. It has to be me. The fact that I never say the right thing or have the ability to make people stay. I eat away these feelings, this loneliness, this confusion over how other people work, how the bonds between people form, and how you can get someone to like you.

I also eat away over my stress over my life. I have my thesis to work on, which I still don’t understand, alongside two other projects, and have exams to study for, and job application after application to labour over alongside. I’m facing so many deadlines, and I feel utterly overwhelmed. I am not working right now. I’m trying to put it off. I don’t want to face it because it makes me anxious and stressed out. Of course procrastination makes me stressed out and anxious too, but not if I eat enough sugar to get that nice high. I can pretend its OK then. It feels like I’m doing life all wrong, I cannot succeed in my personal life, and I’m always struggling to keep up with my academic life. I’m feeling trapped when it comes to my financial situation, and I keep applying for scholarships, for interneships, and now for jobs, and getting rejected.

It feels more than a little disheartening to spend hours researching a company, putting together an application just to get a generic email back saying “sorry, you don’t meet our requirements.” That wording too, that implication: you are just not good enough. Here I am, sitting thinking I’m ticking all the right boxes – the high academic achievement, studying abroad, learning a different language, volunteering – but its not right. I get paranoid that perhaps they see past it all – see how shy and insecure I am underneath the facade I want to project. I want to be someone clever, someone independent who also works well in a group. I am passionate about travelling and working abroad, passionate about my degree and using it to do something useful and I want them to know this. Perhaps they focus on my failed A levels. Perhaps they see that I am shy and introverted, because I’m not involved in societies, maybe? Or do I not have the right hobbies? Is it the languages – because I have not grown up bilingual and have managed only to get to beginner level in my chosen second language? Is it that I have not got enough work experience? Perhaps. But as my coworker noted, as we were having a good bitch about the stress of graduate job hunting, it feels ridiculous and unfair that to get an entry level job you would have had to already had that job before. It feels wrong to use the word unfair. I have always believed that if I worked hard enough then I will be rewarded though. I always thought it would pay off. I’m frustrated by it. It makes me crave something that makes me feel good. Like, some chocolate.

I probably over think things. I don’t know how to switch my thoughts off. “What would you do if you had more free time”? My doctor asked me, not getting it at all. Its not that I don’t have time, its that I feel overwhelmed by the management of it, that I cannot concentrate on anything anyway, because of my thoughts. I’m so caught up worrying if I’m doing the right thing, that I feel frozen, and I don’t want to face it. What if. What is about to go wrong. Am I about to mess up. Am I messing up right now. What is wrong, what is this bad feeling settled inside me.

I don’t want to face anything. I’m tired. I’m scared. I really want some bloody chocolate to make me feel better. I know I’m not supposed to though.

Post Title: Bob Hicok - Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem

“What you accomplish will never quite matter as much as where you fail.”

I had my driving theory test last Thursday. It totally sneaked up on me. I had been cramming desperately for two or three weeks, but still felt hopelessly unprepared. It left my wondering what on earth I was thinking booking it so soon (well OK, the plan was I would get it over and done with before I started uni but still, I quickly discovered this was a flawed plan.)

That morning I was supposed to wake up early and do last minute mock tests and studying, but typically I overslept. I got to do some practice, but in doing so I left late. The bus got caught in traffic. Once off the bus I realised I had no idea where to go. My phone GPS wouldn’t connect. When it did it sent me to the wrong entrance of the test building- I had to go into that wrong entrance and managed to find a very nice, understanding man to give me directions. Back out the building and around to the right entrance where a security guard gave me a set of confusing directions- left? Up the stairs? Left again? What? I found the place soon enough anyway and it was OK. The people at the test centre were great and friendly which helped ease the nerves a bit. I begun my test with a series of multiple choice questions and a case study. I did my best to breathe deep and trust in my revision, trying not to second guess myself, get confused and worked up. Next came hazards – a series of video clips to spot the developing hazards in. I was confused because the set up was completely different than the mock tests on the official practice DVD- I had to go through the instructional video twice! Worse, halfway through my test I remembered I hadn’t touched off my travel card when leaving the bus, which was distracting. I kept thinking about fines and how to sort that out, rather than paying attention to hazard spotting.

I left the test room conflicted and worried. But when I got my results, I had passed. I had done well even. I let out a long sigh of relief. “That’s a big sigh of relief!” The lady at the reception desk said. I grinned at her, laughing. Then I thanked her. “I’ll see you around…well I guess I won’t now. Good luck!” The lady said. I smiled and thanked her again before leaving. Just like that, it was halfway over. This driving thing. I went to a nearby café and ordered a coffee, sat down to drink it and wondered why I had put it off so long. Of course, I remembered that the practical part of driving isn’t going as well, and doubt returned, making me wonder if I am capable of getting my full license. Perhaps I had only passed the theory because I had drilled the practice questions into my brain in such a thorough manner. My driving lesson last week was bad, as was the one before that. I am progressing very, very slowly. I am not enjoying driving very much.

At least I managed to study for my driving, at least I managed to muster the effort to put some effort into that. My university work is still being stubbornly ignored. And tomorrow I have to begin university again. Just introductory lectures, but I’m terrified. Real life is rearing its head, and I can do nothing else but confront it, even though I’m so scared. This is my final year of university. I’m going to be doing a lot of independent work. A whole thesis on a topic I do not understand, and worry that I won’t grow to understand. I have to apply to jobs- and what if that doesn’t work out? It feels too soon, I just want to press pause on everything. Well, that is what I have been doing for this summer, haven’t I? Now my fun is up and its time to work again.

I’m not doing so good though. The anti-depressants make me feel tired and lazy and inexplicably sad. I keep waiting for them to work, to feel different somehow, but I don’t. Not really. In some ways I feel better, but in other ways I almost feel worse. In the same way, I keep waiting for certain things to happen, thinking that once they do finally everything will click into place, and I’ll be OK. But I’ve already ticked so many of those boxes and nothing changes. I’m starting to lose hope. And that is what has kept me going and that is ultimately why I am afraid of fourth year, because without hope, with this horrible sadness and helplessness clinging to me, I cannot bring myself to work. I just want to hide away and sleep. It’s not a good frame of mind for this fundamental year. It feels like what will happen this year will define the rest of my life. It feels enormous and important. And thus, overwhelming to be facing it. Thus, overwhelming to be facing it when I feel this way.

I’m not ready to be a graduate. I’m not ready for the ‘real world’ – to work. I don’t feel capable or grown up in any way. It’s all very worrying. I cannot stop worrying.

At least work is going well, and I’ve found some things to help keep my eating under control, and to help me sleep better (which I will write another entry on!) and I passed my driving theory test. And I’m going home soon so I can see my cat, and go hiking. There, I can be positive. Just.

Post Title: We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves - Karen Joy Fowler

“The star, called ‘suffering’, that was shining in your eye, is your city”

This summer has passed quickly. I’ve not been writing anything down. I don’t know where to start or what to say. I started anti-depressants and it has been strange adjusting to them. I started on a low dose and as my serotonin levels adjusted – or whatever happens – I was left feeling numb and detached. Robotic, my doctor described it and I mostly agreed. I did not feel as anxious or as sad but nor could I feel happiness or excitement. Bad and good emotions were gone. Fast forward and I’m on a higher dose and not quite so robotic, but still not quite where I wish I could be. And I’m tired. No matter how much or little I sleep I’m always exhausted and I cannot concentrate. This state I’m in…its no state for blogging. I’m actually not having a bad summer and plenty has happened but I couldn’t find it in me to write any of it down. The first time I was struggling with my mental health I needed to write it down. I’d blog, and I also kept a private written diary for my counselling- I’d write the bad thoughts down, and then I’d process them. In another notebook I’d scribble down what I was feeling, ranting, so emotional that the pen dug in deep, almost cutting the paper, then I’d scribble it out, turn the page black or blue. This time I’m internalising it, I’m thinking a lot, always thinking, but I struggle to express myself. I’ve become very withdrawn.

Nonetheless, this summer hasn’t been bad. I’ve been in a bit of a limbo with things- spending too much time asleep, or wasting time, all my grand plans for university work lying at the roadside. Fairly typical.

I’ve been home a few times. My sister came back from a big holiday so I went home to look at her photos, and I went walking with my dad the following day. Looking at my sister’s photos should have been boring, but I spent most of it curled up resting on my fathers shoulder, and I felt so safe and comfortable and relaxed that it became one of those perfect moments I’ll remember for a long time. I’d only just started antidepressants then, and I did not feel good. Feeling safe and relaxed felt foreign but wonderful. In that moment I also felt loved. Sometimes I feel so alone, I forget that I am precious to my family at least. With both my parents- its easy to tell how amazed and proud they are in regards to the daughters they raised. It must be a strange feeling to see the babies you once had and can still remember so clearly, now grown up into adult woman. Even I look at my sister, who has matured so much, who is so grown up that I struggle- she’s my sister, but she also has her separate life and as she grows older the ratio changes and her separate life grows. I know I need to respect that, but I still remember how it used to be and its hard to let go. Family relations get so strange as you get older. I feel so clingy and burdensome sometimes, I wonder if I should be more independent. I don’t really know how to act around them anymore, where the boundaries have now shifted. It’s just strange.

It was my birthday in July – 22 now. My sister took me to a food festival and we had a grand time stuffing our faces with overpriced food and watching the demonstrations from cooks and bakers. It was good to have my sister to myself for a time. See: above paragraph. That evening we went out to dinner- my parents, my sister and her boyfriend who I invited because it was the polite thing to do, because I thought that was one of the changes to make now we are older. My sister was so happy to hear that I wanted him there that I knew I had been right. But… I was the only single person there, and the only child. I felt so out of place. I couldn’t enjoy myself. Yes, I turned 22. It doesn’t feel much different than 21, although my embarrassment at how childish I am only deepens as I age. I don’t feel like I act as an adult should. I feel naive and inexperienced.

Walking with my dad was as always delightful and improved my mood, at least.

Later, in August, I went home as my cousin had come to visit and spend time with our family – which was awkward, but not too bad. I stuck close to my dad mostly, which made me feel like a bad person, but my cousin is too unfamiliar, and too gregarious for me to feel comfortable. Looking at him, my mother and my sister they looked more like a family than if I were there. Especially my sister and my cousin- they are so similar in looks and personalities it hurt to look at them.

I’m going home again soon. Going to try spend more time with my mother and sister. It seems whenever I go home I mostly hang with my dad. It’s most comfortable, but its not right.

Apart from that, I’ve settled into work quite nicely. I spend my Tuesday afternoons and Friday mornings there now. I’ve taken on the role of health and safety officer – so I test the fire alarms every week and do visual inspections monthly. I’ve been allowed to help with the cashing up. Mostly I shelve and cull books, and occasionally go on the till. Its monotonous work mostly, but I like it – there is something oddly calming about sorting and shelving books. It does make me anxious dealing with the public though- I never seem to have the answers to anyone’s questions, and I mostly fail at small talk. When I’m on the till I can’t meet anyone’s eyes and I have a little script I made for myself. Sometimes, perhaps I’m imagining it, probably am, when I look up from staring at the counter, just briefly, I think I catch bemused glances from the people I serve and it only makes me feel more ashamed. I can’t go on the till too long otherwise I start feeling sick and shaky, my chest tightening, my words starting to run together, even if I’ve taken my anxiety meds. The fact that I can do this though- that I can deal with strangers for 8 hours a week makes me feel good. And I like that it adds a bit of routine to my week- I would probably lose track of the days otherwise.

Of course I’ve also started to learn to drive, which I don’t enjoy, but hopefully the doctor will say its OK to take my anxiety meds whilst driving and then it can improve. My instructor is lovely, but driving itself is still scary and foreign and overwhelming.

I’m trying my best though. To develop outside my degree. I said it before didn’t I. I put so much into university that other things got left behind. But I’m trying now. I’m working, I’m learning to drive, I’m trying very hard to get on with my family. I’m recovering, trying to keep going even though I’m exhausted and the future is uncertain and I’m scared and anxious. I’m trying to get better. I’m trying not to let the fear from stopping me from living.

Even though the fear that its too late never goes away.

Post Title: Epik High - One

“The sky was dark grey, threatening rain, like the inside of my heart.”

I started the new job/volunteering today. Obviously cannot say much but it wasn’t an utter disaster as a part of me was dreading it would be, in fact it went reasonably OK and I now have two shifts next week. I am already nervous about them, of course. I took my betablocker today and I definitely felt glad for that, but I know eventually I’m going to have to not take them, and so I hope I can learn quickly and get comfortable. Right now its all unfamiliar, there’s lots of rules and procedures, and its quite overwhelming. I tried my best though, and I tried to be friendly and polite, so hopefully I made a good impression. I don’t think you can be fired from volunteering, but I’m sure you can be asked politely to leave. I don’t want that to happen. I realised today that if I could get settled in, I could probably enjoy working there. I want to do well.

I came home from working pretty tired out and hungry. Later my father phoned and asked me to come home this weekend. I thought about it but it didn’t take me long to realise I don’t really want to go home right now. I am enjoying living alone, I am becoming comfortable with my new weight as I continue to develop better eating habits, I am developing good habits in other aspects… I fear that going home will be a Setback and will have some rather adverse effects on my current good progress. I’m just not comfortable being around my family when I’m feeling so unsettled and anxious. They can say things that I don’t think they intend to be hurtful, but that are nonetheless. For more practical reasons, I was going to give my house a good clean over the weekend (its a mess), I only just washed half my wardrobe today, and I went grocery shopping recently so I’ve got loads of fresh fruit and veg I’m trying to get through. But my father was quite insistent, and when I failed to provide proper reasons not to go other than I don’t want to and my avocados are going to go off he sounded even a little hurt, so I had to give in. I’m getting the train tomorrow and arriving in the afternoon. On Sunday I’ll go walking with my father and sister. I get to see my cat. Those are the things I shall try to look forward to. I’ve not even packed yet though. Half my clothes are wet. I wish my father would give me more notice, more time to prepare. I wonder how this weekend will turn out. I feel sensitive and a little grouchy and I’m certain this is a bad mood to go home in.

Post Title: Elizabeth Haynes - Human Remains

“The moment had that feel about it, that before-and-after feel, as though this was going to be the end of one time and the beginning of another.”

I was allocated my final year project the other week. I got my first choice, which was great. The topic sounds really interesting and very relevant to my future interests. However it is mostly a simulation based project, and I’ll be using software I’m unfamiliar with. I went to speak with my supervisor last Friday about it – probably hoping for some reassurance, but I came away more nervous than ever. It turned out to be 15 minutes long where hardly anything was said, and 10 minutes later I realised I still had a lot more questions. I was quite possibly even more confused than I had been, but I’d been too nervous during the meeting to focus.

I went to the library afterwards to scour through books on my thesis topic and on the software but came away with little results. I then headed into Town (the city centre), had some lunch at an Asian restaurant – some very underwhelming Ramen but the restaurant was very empty, which meant it felt OK to be alone. I’ve been to this restaurant before and the food isn’t amazing, but the restaurant has a good atmosphere and nice staff, and it was cheap enough. Then I went to Starbucks to chill out for a bit, flicking through one of the books and trying to make sense of my thesis and mostly failing. I was waiting to go see a movie. I’d left uni at around 11:15am, and the movie was at 2:30pm. I’d gotten into town around 12pm and killed an hour in the restaurant – reading whilst slowly, methodically working my way through my food. Then I had another hour to kill before going to the cinema – hence the Starbucks – and at the cinema thankfully there were queues to eat up some more time. The one downside of being alone – it feels awkward just hanging about by yourself. Eating alone is fine, you’re doing something, as is watching a movie, it’s the in-between bits that get a little bit anxiety inducing.

Anyway, I’d wanted to see Belle since I’d heard of it and I was pleased to find it was worth the spectacular amount of time I had to waste before I could see it. The lead actress put on a great performance. It had some cheesy moments – it wasn’t subtle, and I thought at times it was too focused on romantic love, and I wondered how that was taking away from the story, but I enjoyed it and the time passed quickly. I emerged from the cinema in the late afternoon and headed home, having had a good day. I came home and my feelings quickly caught up with me though, and I ended up spending a good few days moping around the house, mostly watching dramas whilst cross stitching for hours, of all things, trying to get my thoughts away from the dark places. I’ve gotten really into cross stitch these few days – it gives me something to focus on so it can feel like I’m doing something whilst relaxing, so I don’t start getting lost in my thoughts. I had my results coming out on Tuesday and I was worried about that and my project and the long summer without work or anything much planned at all. I was even worrying about 4th year and graduate job hunting, already.

By Monday I managed to get myself together a little and I’ve been trying to maintain this all week – trying to wake up early, get chores done, eat properly. I try to remember that it all adds up in the end- the 45 minutes spent on Japanese, doing just one chore a day. As for the eating, I’m trying to eat all my meals at the table, without doing anything else (I was a big fan of eating whilst on my computer or phone, and its easy to overeat when doing that), trying to have more herbal tea and water than juice and soft drinks, trying not to eat after 9pm. Just integrating small, easy changes in order to work towards the big changes. Trying not to get too caught up on the big, scary end goal and instead focus on what I can do right now, what little differences I can make, trying to set up better habits really.

Oh, and I got my results and they were fine. I’m a bit disappointed with some of my marks though – I feel like I should have done better. In particular I’m disappointed on my thesis mark – and I cannot help but wonder if its because of the messed up presentation and interview, how many meetings I missed, the fact I didn’t take a large leadership role…It’s all my fault, of course. I am working up the courage to email my supervisor to ask if there will be any feedback. I want to know what was wrong.

Today I went to the library again to pick up another book. I’ve still not really gotten stuck into my project though. The books are shoved away in my bag, where I don’t have to see them, where I don’t have to think about my project and how overwhelmed I feel about starting it. I don’t even know where to begin. I’m going to put it off as much as possible.

As I was walking to university today I passed by a charity book store. I go there sometimes as they have quite a good selection. I’d never really thought of working there. However as I passed by I noticed on the window “volunteers needed” I ducked into the shop, and pretended to be browsing as I wondered if I could really have the courage to go speak to the lady at the counter and enquire about the sign. I’d only meant to enquire. However the result was: I have a shift on Friday morning. It happened so quickly and I’m unsure of the impression I made, although I left the shop feeling quite elated. I’d done it! I’d seen an opportunity, and I’d gone for it without any hesitation. Just like that. I felt pretty proud. Later, after a few hours at home doubt settled in – I began to worry. I’m frankly terrified. This will be my first job after all. But I’m also glad and amazed at how easily it happened- after so many job rejections it felt good to just have this just happen. It’s volunteer work so unfortunately I won’t be earning money, however I’ll be able to spend a bit of time outside the house, doing something useful, gaining skills that will be just as valuable as a paid job. I really need work experience, and I really can’t be locked up on my house all the time, so I think it will be good for me. I’m so nervous though. I don’t know what to expect. I hope I don’t mess it up.

I’m taking a massive leap outside of my comfort zone here. I hope it works out.

Post Title: Elizabeth Haynes - Into the Darkest Corner

Tags

Categories

Archives

Blogroll