Dying to Get Out Of My Skin

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 22:35:27 GMT

I am exhausted. I can't keep doing this. This is my schedule:

M-Th: wake up in pain from laxatives that don't work, go to work from 11am-8pm, come home and get dinner together for bf, eat a little bit, purge in shower at 12am, take more laxatives hoping they will work, stay up until 4am preparing lessons for next day and trying to work on med school applications, sleep for 3 hours, repeat.
On Tuesdays, I also volunteer from 8-11am. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I call my mother so she can make me feel like shit once again.
F: wake up in pain from laxatives that don't work, shadow a doctor from 9am-4pm, come home and try to work a little on applications, then at 7pm, go out booze shopping, come home, watch movies, eat dinner, and have drinks with bf, purge dinner, continue to drink until pass out on sofa.
S: wake up in pain from laxatives that don't work, make breakfast for bf, sit in front of computer trying to do applications, shower and go out to get dinner with bf and hang out at bars, binge because i'm drunk, don't purge because i'm out, come home drunk as hell and pass out on couch.
S: wake up bloated because was too drunk to take laxatives and ate so much night before, make breakfast for bf, go grocery shopping, spend most of the day cooking enough food and cutting enough salad for dinner for M-Th, and cleaning kitchen, bathroom, etc., make dinner, purge in shower, call my mother, take laxatives, stay up until 4 am trying to do applications, sleep 3 hours. . .

I have an appointment on Monday with a psych for evaluation for ADD. I need help. I can't get anything done no matter how hard I try. I mean, physical activities, like going to work, cooking, cleaning, are fine. It's the stuff that requires concentration, like application essays. And I am scared to eat, not because of the weight gain (which I am scared of, but I mean I'm scared to eat even small amounts of salad), because I get so incredibly bloated that my clothing doesn't fit comfortably. I feel like I'm going to have a meltdown soon

Fri, 21 Nov 2008 19:35:23 GMT

Name: erum
Date: 11/21/2008
Colorgenics Number: 73250164

Is it that you are working - or even playing - too hard? Because it would seem that you are experiencing a great deal of pent-up emotion at this time which could possibly take effect and lead to irrational behaviour.

You are working extremely hard trying to improve your image. You need for those people in positions that matter to recognise your potential and to acknowledge you.

Your involvements seldom measure up to your high emotional expectations and your 'needs' to be 'loved' and 'cared for' have in the past often led to extreme disappointment. But a change is in the wind - make a firm decision to start anew. Just 'think' it..and it will happen.

You pretend that you are a carefree individual and that nothing really bothers you - that you are so self-sufficient that whatever problems beset you they simply flow off you as water flows off a ducks back. You are experiencing considerable stress, trying to conceal yourself from the rest of the world. In actual fact - deep down, you are not at all happy. You feel lonely and you need someone with whom you can 'Let your hair down' and share your hopes, dreams and high standards. You are imposing unnecessary self restraint on yourself. You would like to demonstrate the unique quality of your character to all and sundry.

At this time you don't particularly like yourself. Everything that you have tried to do seems to have gone wrong. This makes you feel that there is no point in trying to start again. Apart from being stressed and tense, you are angry with yourself and have unadmitted self-contempt. Your refusal to admit that you and you alone is the basic cause of your problems leads to you adopting a headstrong and defiant attitude. If you take stock of yourself, smile a little and let go, everything will turn out OK. Have you not heard of the cliche 'smile and the world smiles with you - cry and you cry alone!'?

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 08:19:56 GMT

I hate being drunk. Because I start realizing the truth. And it completely undermines the false truth that I come up with when I am sober. I start thinking about how much I really DON'T want to be with him. Because he is a fool and a loser and an uncle tom and a used tool. When I am sober, I overlook that. I only see that he loves me. He loves me because I am all he can ever really have to love.

I want to puke. I have wanted to puke. I ate too much today. Now I realize I didn't purge because of him, and that now, I am beginning to feel some kind of conflict. Because I don't know why I didn't chosse my own comfort over his approval, and didn't just purge to make myself feel better, even he felt worse because I failed. It is all a confusing mess.

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 19:48:41 GMT

"Perfect Girls, Starving Daughter" by Courtney Martin. It is about eating disorders among women and girls of our generation (focused mostly on the 15-25 range). It is one of the best books about bulimia I have read, and it really makes me think. Here is an excerpt:

[T]hese perfect girls still feel we could always lose five more pounds. We get into good colleges but are angry if we don't get into every college we applied to... We win scholarships galore, science fairs and knowledge bowls, spelling bees and mock trail debates. We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans.

We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, witty, intellectually curious, always moving.

We are living contradictions. We are socially conscious, mutliculti, and anticorporate, but we still shop at Gap and Banana Republic....
We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible and thrive on self-deprivation. We drink coffee, a lot of it. We are on birth control, Prozac, and multivitamins. We do strip aerobics, hot yoga, go five more minutes than the limit on any exercise machine at the gym.
We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others. We never want to be as passive-agressive as our mothers, never want to marry men as uninspired as our fathers. We carry the old world of guilt- center of families, keeper of relationships, caretaker of friends - with the new world of control/ambition - rich, independent, powerful. We are the daughters of feminists who said "You can be anything" and we heard "You have to be everything."

We must get A's. We must make money. We must save the world. We must be thin. We must be unflappable. We must be beautiful. We are the anorectics, the bulimics, the overexercisers, the overeaters. We must be perfect. We must make it look effortless.

We grow hungrier and hungrier with no clue what we are hungry for. The holes inside of us grow bigger and bigger.

Someone posted this. Scary how true it is.

Because that is me, word for word. except i'm on wellbutrin and topamax, not prozac. and never shopped at gap or banana republic. maybe once or something if there was a big sale. and once i got to college, i stopped getting A's. I got a few B's. My mother is not a feminist, she told me once it was okay for my husband to beat me as long as the children didn't see, and there ARE things women can't do, but that is why i never want to be like her. my husband is not as uninspired as my father, because i am not married. but my boyfriend is.

Other than those few corrections. Every SINGLE WORD. Is true. sleep deprivation. . . i thought i was the only one who was crazy enough to pride myself on that. i don't know how anyone thought of writing that down. and the filled appointment books. my planner looks like a novel puked on it.

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 01:01:29 GMT

I'm a coward. A fat coward. A fat lazy unmotivated coward. A fat lazy unmotivated coward who will ultimately end up unsuccessful and poor.

I can't get myself to look for a job. I can't get myself to study for the MCAT. I can't get myself to a gym. I can't get myself to eat less. I can't get myself to write a personal statement. I can't get myself to get letters of recommendation. I can't get myself to do anything.

I walked to the gym today, then walked past it when I saw a line of protesters walk by. There were women with signs and a megaphone. One was holding an umbrella that said "Peace, not war". There were men in orange prison uniforms, with black execution masks over their heads, chained to each other, also marching with them. They were chanting anti-war things. They got to Center and Shattuck, and the men were unchained, and they kept yelling and chanting and protesting. All of a sudden, loud sirens started sounding, and police cars started arriving in twos and threes from all directions. One man, a black man in an orange prison uniform, started getting violent. By this time, there were at least ten police cars and officers were wielding billy clubs, and more sirens could be heard in the distance. A crowd had gathered, and I was standing on the further corner, but then decided to get closer, going over to the corner right across from where this was all happening. At first, I had been worried that a greasy haired, tall Paki, with eyes heavily lined in black, smoking a cigarette and in head-to-toe black, was a prime candidate for the police officers to practice billy clubbing on. I felt safer in a crowd. People were taking pictures and videos on their cell phones. The man who was getting violent was holding a huge peace sign decorated with pink flowers. Exactly what hippy culture and Berkeley had been about, once upon a time. This is what I had come to Berkeley for. But the police descended on him. It took two or three to get him, because he fought and struggled. They eventually handcuffed him and threw him against the car, and with much difficulty, forced him into the back seat. In the process, the pink-flowered peace sign fell and was trampled by the police. A new chant began. "No war, no police". The police eventually left, because they could do nothing about verbal protest. A few cars stayed behind, just in case, and the crowd dispersed, but the protest went on. I finally got to experience a small piece of what Berkeley used to be.

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 15:58:50 GMT

So I am too scared to try to weigh myself yet. April hasn't been too bad. My plan for this month is to eat very little and exercise like crazy.

APRIL:
Week 1and 2:
Eat: water, tea, coffee, diet soda, energy drinks, crystal lite, sf jello, sf gum, sf popsicles, sf candy, broth, lettuce, sunflower seeds
Exercise: 30 min elliptical daily, 1 class pilates 2x/week, 1 class toning 2x/week

Week 3 and 4:
Eat: raw veggies, fruit, and lean protein
Exercise: 60 min elliptical daily, 1 class pilates 3x/week, 1 class toning 3x/week

Weigh In:
May 1
GOAL: 118 lbs.

I FUCKING HATE MYSELF> I AM A FAT FUCKING WHORE> I AM THE MOST VILE FILTH IN THE UNIVERSE I AM THE > > >> I CAN"T EVEN THINK OF HOWM UCH I HATE MYSELF I HATE I HATE I VOMIT I AM NAUSEATED