The Blonde: September 2014

Senin, 29 September 2014

Carsyn is 4

My sweet, darling girl. I cannot believe you are four.

Where has the time gone?

How did you become such a big girl?

You love being a big girl. Its so sweet but it breaks momma's heart at the same time.

I've been trying to get rid of your paci for a while but you kept telling me you needed it to sleep and would get rid of it when you're four.

Sure enough you proclaimed the morning of your birthday you were giving it to your little cousin Emersyn and you haven't looked back.

You love to pretend and have the most vivid imagination. You pretend you have friends and you're all going to a ball. You pretend a silver box is your phone and text and take pictures.

You love lip gloss and just being a girl.

You love your barbies and dolls and love playing dress up with them.

You love your baby brother and almost always give in to him to make him happy (or avoid being tackled or choked).

You love to snuggle.

You love to be read to.

All in all you are just the sweetest little girl and we felt you deserved the best birthday ever.

We started the day in Cincinatti shopping with Rosie and Hank.

We hit up Tiffany's and Saks..

I think you love to shop more than Rosie!

Of course you had to stop to reapply your lipstick several times.

We had lunch at Rock Bottom and you and Hank played around the fountain some.

We spent the rest of the day celebrating at Chuck E Cheese with Maddox and his family.

You had cake..

Played games..

And even tried your luck at the ticket blaster..

It was truly a great day.

Love you Carsyn! Please stay momma and daddy's sweet girl forever!

Sabtu, 20 September 2014

Romanticizing vs glorifying

If you search mia, ana, depression, anxiety, suicide, self harm or any other related word into tumblr, you will find a load of black and white pictures of sad teenagers, and depressing quotes.

You will also find a bunch of people ranting about how terrible it is to romanticize mental illnesses.

Here is my unpopular opinion: Romanticizing mental illness is fine. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. However there is a BIG problem with glorifying mental illness. The problem is, the difference can be hard to notice.

Romanticizing illnesses is done all the time. From John Green writing romance novels about teens dying with cancer, and a potential suicide in "The Fault in Our Stars" and "Looking for Alaska", to quotes such as "There are lines on your wrists/ like railroad tracks/ and I know exactly where they're going/ but there is no train to heaven" (Unknown), we romanticize illness everyday. It helps us cope. Thinking that we are tragically beautiful, or a purging princess, or a delicate doll helps us hate ourselves less.

The problem occurs when the romanticizing enters that grey section, where illness are glorified, the bad sides pushed aside, and people start wanting eating disorders. I'm talking about people thinking that being depressed means someone is going to save you and help you escape from the dark side. Or thinking that cancer will make you realize exactly what you want in life, and post recovery you will live your life to the fullest.

This isn't how illnesses work. Yes maybe when you are depressed you have that one person who never gives up on you and gives you hope. But you still can't get out of bed everyday, cry yourself to sleep at night, get nightmares, and can't cross the street without secretly hoping that a car will run you over. If you wish you had an eating disorder, stop right now. You will lose your hair, your friends, isolate yourself, and the disease will take control of your brain.

If romanticizing your illness helps you cope. Continue what you are doing. I know that reading poems about people dying, and reading books about beautiful girls who cut themselves but get saved and find themselves with the help of a boy, gives me hope. Makes me think that I'm not just a crazy worthless girl. But please never encourage others to worsen their disorders, and if you find yourself wishing you could have a bit of anorexia or anxiety please stop and read about all the terrible side affects of these diseases.

-Niqi
xoxo

Fucking mood swings

Everything is great. I'm productive, light restricting, exercising and pretending to be functional. I actually start to think that maybe things are turning around. Just maybe I actually am getting better. Maybe my meds do work. Maybe I can overcome this hell. Then bamn. I run into someone or something that triggers me. My old residence manager, my weigh in was bad, I don't lift as much as I wanted to, I ran out of bananas. Literally anything. It could be the tiniest thing. Sometimes it's nothing. And all of a sudden every thing sucks. My skin is itching to be cut, I just want to see blood drip. I want to scratch away at the skin covering my bones. I want to cut the fat off my stomach. I'm losing control. What I crave so much, and strive for every day but now I'm losing it. I leave my house in a fury and jump on the first bus that will take me to a grocery store. Cookie dough, chocolate, oreos, whipped cream, pizza pops, pretzels, peanut butter, and ice cream all go into my basket. Realizing I probably shouldn't be spending this much money on food I know I'm going to purge, I slip some into my coat pockets and bag before heading to the cash register. I have about 20$ left this week for food, since my shopping trips are so small from restricting during my good days. I spend it all. I start eating on the bus ride home, doing my best to seem in control and not shoving food in my face as fast as I can. I get back to my house hoping to run down to my room before my housemates see me and start a conversation. I'm so fucking inpatient. They've gotten good at noticing when I'm not doing well. I run down to the basement and through the curtains into my room, hoping that no one decides to go play video games in the adjacent room. I sit down and open boxes of cookies and peanut butter and realize I forgot cutlery. Screw it. I dip the cookie in peanut butter, put a piece of chocolate on top and spray out some whipped cream. I take a bite. Finally. Relief. I feel so damn great now. I eat more and more until I am no longer in control. My stomach no longer wants food, but my brain still does. I head to the bathroom and purge a bit so I can shove more food in. This repeats until I get into the shower for my final purge. I purge and purge as burning hot waters sprays onto my back. Drinking water coming out of the shower head to avoid big clumps of food coming out that will clog the drain. When I'm finally empty, the sense of security comes back to me. I'm in control. I can do whatever I want. I get out of the shower, put some clothes on and go back to my homework, or practice as if nothing had happened. This lasts a couple of hours until I start having flashbacks to all the food I ate, how I lost control, how pathetic I am, reach for my blade, lighter or simply start scratching. I then give up. Pop a couple pills and head to bed, so the monster in my head will calm down for a bit. Maybe tomorrow will be better I tell myself as I drift into sleep.

-Niqi
xoxo

Senin, 15 September 2014

I'll feed on caffeine and knowledge

Classes have started

Assignments piling up

No time to sleep

No time to eat

Grab your coffee and

Don't be late

Who needs sleep

When you have caffeine

Who needs food

When you're feasting on knowledge

Live in a haze

High on caffeine

From those sleepless nights

High on endorphins

From running to class

High on purging

All your bad dreams

Keep on pushing

Never stop

Just don't burn out

Until the end of the term

-Niqi
xoxo

Jumat, 12 September 2014

Why bother

I don't see why I should bother. I try to get better, and I get knocked down. I binge and feel relief. Purge and feel power. Restrict and feel control. I don't know how to get those addicting feelings without my destructive cycles.
But why bother? I'll live a shorter life filled with emotions caused my ED. But at least those emotions will include relief, power and control instead of sadness, fear and stress.
We are all addicted to something that takes away the pain.
Don't take from me what I use to take away the pain.
Please understand.
I can't recover. I just can't.

-Niqi
xoxo

Cancer...

I'm scared.
My esophagus is wearing down.
This could lead to cancer.
I know the likely hood of this happening is slim. But the chance of it happening now is higher than it was last week, before I had to go to the ER because I was having absolutely terrible painful acid reflux. I've always known that my eating disorder could kill me, but somehow that has always been okay. Something about cancer makes it scarier. It's not scary enough for me to want to recover. You can't be scared into recovery. Just scary enough for me to cry myself to sleep every night.
It doesn't help that both my dad and stepmom struggled with cancer when they were healthy individuals. And here I am slowly killing myself and increasing my chances of getting this disease everytime I stick my fingers down my throat. It still isn't stopping me. I hate myself so much for this.
Esophageal cancer only has a 15% survival rate 5yrs after diagnosis. It is one of the most fatal cancers. You can't eat with this disease.. so my one way of being able to cope with stress will disappear. It will be a long and painful death.
I'm scared.
I don't want my life to end like this.
But being scared only leads me to bingeing and purging more and more. I can't stop. I need help but I refuse it. I don't know how I'm ever going to get out of this.

-Niqi
xoxo