Week in august.

I went beyond myself this week.
I showed myself that I can be a good friend.
Struggling with my own depression and barely keeping the voices controlled I needed to be there for my best friend who lost her mom.
Her mom committing suicide is a very personal field to me. I am the depressed on. I can relate to the people who commit suicide. A very odd feeling fills up my body. It is like I get sad. Very sad for those people. Very sad. Yet at the same time it does not stay just with feeling something like sadness but it also recalls all the pain from the time when I experienced loss of my very close friends myself. Especially the pain when I lost Marusa exactly a year ago as she committed suicide herself.
Flipping between sadness because more and more people get depressed and choose to end their lives and sadness because I experienced that loss, there is also just a puzzled feeling of "What the fuck just happened?" Such moments stop us all and made us think of our own lives for a moment.
But experiencing this difficult time on my own skin  needed to be put aside this time because I needed to be there for my friend which is not something I am particularly good at.
 And I was so afraid I might fail. Going outside, meeting new people, be with the sadness , be supportive........was not on my list for this week. Especially "going out" and "meeting people" part.
I experienced big time anxiety everytime before we sat in the car to drive south to be with my friend. My palms were sweating, my heart was beating fast, my stomach was cramped, my legs were heavy and my mind was set off. Not pleasant and in any other circumstances I would not put myself through that. I did it, however, for my friend. It was my turn to be there for her. I barely held myself together. I did not say much. Most of the time I kept quiet. I felt like crying all the time. But my friend did not cry that much so I did not want to be the wwak one and the one who would end up needing support.
Every day there was part of me hoping she will text saying:"I wanna rest. you dont need to come." Because I needed to recover myself.
The day before funeral was just so strange. Of course I did not want to go to the funeral. I did not want to be surrounded with people. It felt like the time stopped and we are just waiting for something. I did the funeral. I was having a panic attack after panic attack. But I kept telling myself: "This time is not about you!" and so I held myself together but I felt like crying all the time.
My heart was going crazy. I was sweating and I was so so afraid. I dont really know what I was so afraid of, but the feeling was pretty much the same to the feeling when I jumped put of the airplane . Fear.
Fear of failing as friend.
Fear of loss.
Fear of not being capable of holding myself together.
Fear of being judged.
Fear of being useless.
AFter the funeral we went to My friend's home and it was kind of a very happy gathering. But Then over there it was all about me again......I wanted to disappear. I was so afraid of being judged. I was so so afraid. No-one judged. Everyone accepted me fully and they loved both me and my husband.
Everything was ok on the outside but a mess on the inside.
I was a rack.
The next day I tried to recover. I was still full of fear.
I even went into my body and anger came out. Such frustration.
Fear. Anger. Fear. Anger.
Fear I am worthless and ugly. Anger because I am worthless and ugly. Fear. Anger.
Voices telling me I am fat and not perfect. Not needed. Not appreciated.

Then today I couldn't hold anything together any more.
The voices won. They broke me down.
I am useless. I have no depth. People dont like me. People dont appreciate me. I am easily replaceable.. I Am  really not needed. Everyone is better than me. and on and on......
Then, it became more clear that I am feeling this way because of the two specific friends.
Those two that I have been torturing myself with for quite some time now.
Same shit.
They ignore me. They dont like me enough .
yah. what a big deal. There is a lot of people not liking me. Thtas ok. We are a chemistry and not everybody get good reaction when put together. It is all good.
But not for these two.
I guess it is because I thought for both of them that we are friends then to realize we are not friends is quite painful. But I still dont get it. there are other people who I think of as friends and they are not as deep friends as I thought and it hurts but I move on. I mean seriously....that's life.
so I dont really understand how did I get this hooked.
It is a pain in the ass.
Everything they do I glorify. The way they button their fucking jeans after taking a poo is perfect in my head. Not kidding. It is just shouting: You are not that good. She does that better.
And I dont fucking let go.
I mean I kind of am doing better lately. SO I would just have once a week such painful breakdown because of it, but on daily bases I can control my thoughts, because I am treating it as an addiction and I kind of know now how to cope with that.
When I see them online on fb or whatup I react instantly and wanna message. Then I stop myself.
And I grieve. I grieve a lot. But I hold it together.
I will let go completely one day I will one day feel confident enough to get new perspective. I will get better self esteem and I will not crave their attention any more. I will believe I am good without them. Where not, they define me. My failure. My imperfection.

And I dont know how to live with my imperfection.





 

Depression taking lives

Last night I got a  message from my best friend saying: "Tas I cant meet you tomorrow. Something terrible happened. Will call you soon. I love you. I really love you."
It was an odd message because she is usually totally cheesy with messages.....everything is in signs like xxxx and **** and hearts and suns..... This one was different. It was empty.
My heart sank.

I lying in bed, with a phone in my hands while my husband was taking a shower. I yelled to him: She just sent me an odd msg.

When I said it out loud I knew something is wrong.
The unknown feeling fulfilled my entire body. It was a feeling, not a thought, a feeling that was saying.................Its her mom!


The feeing changed.
The fear came.
Fear of failing as a friend.
I just had one thought........"What if it is really her mom. What if I will not be capable of feeling anything? if she lost her mom she will be in a screaming pain for a while and what if I will not be able to take care of her as her best friend. What if I will be not capable of showing any empathy?"

It was her mom.

She committed suicide.

She got sick about two years ago. She suffered from manic depression so she was flipping from being euphoric to being depressed.
It did not seem like the worst case of the depression.
But it was big enough for her.
Bad day.

She hang herself.

Her husband and son found her.

As much as I understand depression and never judge suicides because I know the pain. I know how torturing it is when you have to live but you literally don't see why would you need to live. There is no reason. Not even your beloved ones are not a good reason to stay. I know how it is if you struggle with depression for years and years. But I don't get it. This time I am angry at her. Like NO! You should try more. You should try harder!! You caused so much pain to us all.

I don't know. it is still all new so I don't really know how I feel but at this moment this is what is going on in my head.


I was so afraid I will not be able to be there for my friend but now all I can think of is "OH no, she is in pain. She suffers. She is  in pain. so not fair. I don't want her to be in pain. WHy does she need to go through this? "
I wanna be there with her. I wanna ease her pain.
I guess she is much better in that than me. She is one of the strongest, the most independent women I know. She is incredible. But this hurts. I know how much It hurts and how it hurts.
I lost two of my the dearest friends (one suicide and one cancer) in a matter of two years and there is not even one day I would now think of them. Sometimes it is easy and life just is there, but sometimes it is more difficult and I wonder how would life be if they were still alive?But love for mom is different love and it probably hurts different. and I don't wanna miss a moment when she needs me. And I don't know how to be a good friend.
I will pray for the strength.

again, on a personal, selfish note....I don't know why this seem to be the pattern.
It is scary how many people related to my life, committed suicide. It has been happening all the way since the primary school.
My, at that time, best friend's (the same friend who died last year herself) father hung himself. Then my classmate's father too. In the high school someone I hung out with committed suicide after my birthday party!At uni my friend's father threw himself under the train.
Then Marusa my dearest ended up her life. Now my bestfriends mom.
Counting those faces like this is so spooky I know it is not a game "Who knows more people that committed suicide..." but my point it.....I struggle with eating disorders big time and there is no reason for me to live also, still. most of the time. But people areound me are dying. Why? Whats the case? I am so freakign afraid tha my father is next.
My point is I guess: The world does not take depressions serious enough. It is a serious condition that kills so many people.
Yet no-one really talks about it!

Look around you!
People suffer!
People need help. But people don't talk about their emotions in an honest way. People are afraid because other people judge.
It is wrong to talk about real emotions in this society.
And so lives are slowly shutting off.
In front of our eyes.

Yet we care more about free wifi and Iphones and latest fashion and similar shit.

Can you grasp?
Can you understand?
Can you see through?

If I had a magic power I would give people a courage to be honest with their emotons and not afraid of sharing them with the world. I would make talking about emotions accepted by society and safe.

Now you have higher chance to get away with a murder than to get away with talking about how you feel.

Peace to all who left.

Bulimia life vs. Real life

I have been trying hard to redirect my compoulsive thinking.
When I start overthinking I am suppose to go into my body!
Sometimes I do that and sometimes I don't.
My therapist says that just to aknowledge your overthinking and then ask yourself "where is my body?" and just feel your body. As soon as you are aware of your body, the heavines of your entire body, there is no room for thinking anymore.
Sometimes you get to feel your legs only, or arms, or just a face....but even if you feel just a part of your body, the thinking gets blurier. More of your body you are aware of the quetest your mind is.
It is amaying how beautifully this works and it sounds easy, but it isnt. At least to me, I find it difficult. Therefore there is so many moments when I just let my mind take control over and does its own shit. Compulsive thinking is going on. It sucks. It really sucks.
It seems so real. It even flicks some images into your head.
So, I either overthink or I am numb.
I prefer numbness though. But numbness is dangerous. Numbness leads to decisions such as vomiting, binging, starving, comiting suicide...

There is not one minute of my day (in hours that is about 4 hours or more a day) when I spend thinking about my two friends who disappointed me.
I can understand the fact that she doesn't like me that much and in real world I dont even have much of a problem with letting people go. I have always believed that if there is no good mutual energy---move on! One does not need anyone who makes you sad,worry, anxious etc. Friend, boyfriend, aunite, cousin... let go if the friendship doesn't serve you any longer.
But! ---- I live two lives. And one is run my my mind. And so, in the bulimia life it ain't easy to let go. In my bulimia world I don't understand the natural selection of friends----some come and some go. In my real life on the other heand I strongly believe that there is a reason for each person that comes into your life that came. Either they are there to teach you something/help you overcome certain difficuly or they are there to stay and be supportive with your happiness and sadness on daily bases.
I obviously hit the friendship where this person is not meant to be my true friend. Which is ok. I learned a lot from her and because of her I was brave enough to do some things, their relationship situation was all this time the same as ours just always a step ahead which was always very encouraging... Like, i can see clearly why we befriended. I can see it and I can understand it.
BUT!
In my bulimia life I different. I dont understand anything. I just cry. I ache. I suffer. I overthink.
The mind is yelling so loud: "You are worth nothing! If you were worth just anything this would not happen! If you were perfect this would not happen. She would hold to the friendship with you. She would go beyond herself because it would be worth putting effort into our friendship. BUt like this you are pathetic, boring, useless and worhtless piece of shit. Shame on you!" This makes me cry. Sometimes makes me numb. I escape. But Most of the time it makes me suffer.
I always thought I am too strict with my friends and my expectations are way too high. Now I think: Yes, my expectations are very high but to my defens...my time is precious and I aint waisting it for a bullshit! Ever! So if you are my friend be a good friend otherwise I dont need you! But it isn't about me wanting my friends to be perfect-----I let them breathe. And more I recover better friend I am. I can see the difference. I am more patiente and I am camer. I am better listener. I am more reliable and I am more flexible. I understand that they can't be all over me, in fact it does not even suit me it they are. I dont believe firends have to be together everyday. I believe we all have to have space and it is about the feeling, about the energy when we meet after two, three, four weeks of not being together-----how does the reunion feel? Are we close or time set us apart?With good friends I feel close. I am more real and I am honest friend.
So I am not unbearable.
BUt I have such high expectations for me! If they don't call it is because I stink. Because I suck and because I am pathetic. If they are a bit strange when we meet it is because I am boring and lame. If anything happenes to our friendship or time together it is because I am the strange one and not worth hanging out with. Friendship is nothing natural for me in my bulimia life. I believe everyone is against me and is trying to hurt me. People are not sencere with me in my world. No-one cares! Literally no-one cares! That is one of the most painful beliefs. I believe no-one loves me. Literally no-one. I believe it so strongly that this is my only truth!! There is no other options even. They just don't love me. They use me but they don't love me.
I remember my therapist telling me-----"If they give you a reason to feel that way then talk to them but if they don't give you any reasons to feel that way then it is your issue from the past, something else is waking up and coming out. Go to your body and deal with it."
That is what she told me to do but I don't do it everytime. Because I believe it so badly that I don't distinguish between ----them being the reason to feel that way------and them being the reason to wake up shit from my past. So I let it be and I live that way. It is my only truth. I see people doing nice things to me, calling me, messaging me, visiting me.....but I don't believe in that. That does not come through all the layers bulimia has set up for me to isolate me from the reality. From the real life. Nothing comes in. I don't even see that my husband love me deeply. In my mind even my husband is just afraid of leaving me. If he was sure I would not fall apart he would leave me. Even my parents don't love my. They just care because I am their daughter. Not more. Friends have no chance of getting any credits. Everyone is against me and I honestly believe I am the worst creature on the planet. not just saying it to sound dramatic, i really, trully believe that. That I am the ugliest, there is no uglier person. The most disgusting and the strangest person, the only human being who is not worth of any bit of love. It is just me and selfhate. Endless selfhate!
 In my bulimia life I am fat and unattractive and no-one loves me.
In my real life I don't care about my size as long as I take care of my self with the way I eat, think and move my body.
In my real life I feel love and I see how beautiful the Nature is. I see through the pain of people. I care about people and I don't envy and I don't hate people for having a good life and skinny legs.
I listen music more and music makes me happy. I do yoga with no intention of losing weight. I practice my recoverying well and work with my emotions. I appriciate beaty, art and tidy apartment. I appreciate flowers and plants (These are the second on my list of hate. The first are skinny people.)
I talk to the strangers, i wear nice make up and I dress up nice. I keep my window open and I appreciate rain and sun. I don't complain in my real life. I don't waste time on facebook and I don't compare myself to others. In my real life I am grateful. I am a very grateful person infact. I pray. Yes, in my real life I pray and I am very spiritual person. Cooking is an art for me and I believe in talking and comunicating. I believe that the world could only be healed if people started talking about their emotions to eachother honeslty! Even if that means they have to admit they were wrong. I believe in the power of now when I live in my real life. I believe thinknig is useless. I believe that we are all smart and all capable of succeeding. I believe we can all recover and we can all wake up. I also believe in expressing yourself is a good way. Expressing it through art and way of living. I believe tattoos are attractive and music should be played loud. I believe there is NOTHING wrong with dancing on a street and I believe that street art should be supported by everyone. I believe that homeless people are cool and that having a cup of tea with a stranger on a street is more spiritual and liberating than a lunch with a friend. I believe one day I will write a book and that one day my parents will fall inlove again and I believe that love can cure absolutely anything. In my real life I am calmer and dont judge. I don't hate and I deal with my grumpiness. I help those who need help and I talk openly about bulimia and my recovery. I don't hide who I am. On the other side in my bulimia life I deny myself and I dont take care of myself. I hate and I judge. I want all the people to be wrong and bad. I can't stand if someone is just fine and I can't see his mistakes that easily. I hate that. In my bulimia life I don't believe in love and I believe that skinny people are better people. i believe that active people are stronger peolpe. I believe that some people deserve to suffer and I live of people's miserableness. People's imperfection and struggles bring peace to me. i don't like when people get new things in my bulimia life. I don't like Nature. I don't cook and I don't hear music. Nothing smells nice in my bulimia life and I am restless all the time. I act strange. I compare myself to others non stop and I sleep poorly. I am afraid all the time and angry most of my time. I look down when I walk the streets and I don't meet my friends. Everything is pointless. I complain all the time. I am cranky all the time and I give my husband a lot of shit every day. I whine and I complain and I look for things that he does wrong so I can freak out and blame him for the way I feel. I live in consant fear of not being good enough and not being worth anything. I waste hours and hours refreshing facebook and looking other peolpes profiles and projecting the perfection on them and hate myself for not being the way they are. In my bulimia life i play a game where I take a face of one person, neck of another, arms of the third, and fingers of the fourth person. Boobs and shoulders of the sixth and seventh and the belly of the eigth one. Hips of the ninth person and tights of the tenth person then calfs and feet of the eleventh and twelfth person and the toes of the thirtheenth one. Style of another 6 people and the attitude of 4 extra people. then I belnd it all together and then that I wanna be me.
Because I can't reach that perfeciton, I suffer and hate myself and blame myself for it.

In real life I am nicer and better person.

Discovering 'Mind'

I have been very restless.
I am like bipolar of a bipolar.
Its insanely tiring.
I am empty, then I am angry, then I am fat, then I get it, then I lose it, then I feel it, then I cry, then I laugh, then I sleep, then I am nervous, then I am blessed, then I am worried, then I am brave, then I am ugly, then I am worthless, then I am afraid, then I am faithful, then I am happy, then I am loved, then I am not present, then I am frustrated, then I am restless, then I am tired, then I am lazy, then I am hungry, then I am thirsty, then I have cravings, then I am compared, then I am sad, then the voices are just too much, then I am empty again.

For fuck's sake I cant do it right.
I   was walking a lot, but in no time the voices used it against me. Walking became losing weight. I needed to stop it. Immediately. I stopped it. I didn't walk that much. Not walking became a torture because the voices are screaming I am so lazy and I will end up being a giant piece of poo!
Then I cry because it is so hard to take such torture.
It is the worst form of a torture I know.
It hurts my entire body. It causes a sever pain all over my body. I get cramps all over my body. My kidney starts hurting. I get a sever headache, my mussels shrink and the pain in my entire body is like someone was kicking me for half an hour. It is like I might not be able to take it.
Then I remember to pay attention to this pain and my body speaks.
After I get myself together it all makes sense. I understand my condition and I understand life. I understand I should wait with my activities because I do them from a wrong reason. When I find this peace, bulimia freaks out again and its yelling at me telling me I am the only one who does not exercise and the rest of the entire world exercise each and every day. I believe it. it tells me I will never be beautiful if I don't exercise.
I just cant win the battle in my head.

Then for few next minutes I live normal life. I suggest we go to town. I dress up. I even keep the vices quite while dressing up. I mean not really quite, they speak "Fat! Fat! Fat! Ugly!" but I somehow ignore them. I put make up on (I even went to town with no make up, that is odd and new) and off we go. In town we sit down and the sun shines.
Ta-daaa!!! Freak out!
" Your so white. She is so brown. Now from now on you better bring your ass here very day and ten yourself. You are ugly."
Where the fuck does that come from I have no idea, but it controls my mood.
I try to go to my body, I try to feel it and I try to be present, just like my therapist told me to do. It actually works when I can make it, but most of the time I still drown in overthinking.
When I spend so much time in my head living my second life I don't have a feeling when and what to eat. So I find it hard to be hungry. "You shouldn't eat. You should skip your meal. Cmon, lose 5 kg, so you will be as beatuful as she is." I don't lose this fight because if not myself then my husband makes me have my meal.
When I am compulsively thinking, I am not myself. My tights are like double size and my but too. I don't really know how do I look like. I feel like a woman size 46/48, on good days 44.
I am 36, jeans 38. 

The worst are the moments when I don't feel anything.
Those are not really promising. I have nothing to lean on. It can go on and on for days. I look around and see nothing, feel nothing, smell nothing. I don't even think about anything. My head is empty, and so is my heart.
And those empty moments always bring a tornado.
It got very, very tiring.
There is tiny part of me that cant wait for the school to start so I get busy with other crap not my own one for all the time.

Sometimes I live a nice and good life.
we hang out with our friends. some Italian people. We are very, very blessed to have them in our lives. they know how to live. They are there for us, with us.
They celebrate life. They live. And so we celebrate life with them and we live life with them.
When we meet I always dress a  bit nicer. When we hang out with them we usually end up having a dinner with some general directors or with former Slovene president. Its kind of an experience. ANd I like that about our lives. We live small, hippie life, but we have whole spectrum of friends. And I enjoy it. My point is, I go out.
But when we meet those people there is always lots of food involved.
And I struggle when we have to eat because I still find it difficult to eat outside my schedule.
 But it is also very difficult to sit at the same table with people whose socializing goes through food and just drink tap water. I get punished everytime for eating outside.

But however, when I am with them, I am present.
I like life. I like myself. I like my husband. I like our friends. The time with them is always so cheerful and exciting. We share stories and we learn a lot from eachoter. In the beginning I believed we cannot have deeper friendship because we are not same kind of people and we have nothing to talk about......I mean seriously I am a teacher with bulimia who loves yoga and art and they are people whose business language I cant even understand.
But now that we actually befriended I think differently. I think we need eachother. They need people like we are to see life from a small person's perspective and we need them to see how life is from their perspective. And I always believed we cant share much with them but now when we meet there is soooo many stories we can share and we make all the friends happy and they forget about their boring financial world. It is a nice group of friends and I am happy. I opened myself completely to them and I don't avoid them. But this is easier because they are like a new, fresh start.
Like I can present them the new Natasa. Which is so refreshing. There is no luggage I carry when I am with them.  So I guess it is healing. I welcomed few new friends this year.

And some of them I admired before we befriended, and now I call them friends.

You lose one you gain two.

On the other hand I am hooked with people who turned out not to be my friends.
And I just cannot let got of them.
There is a friend of mine who I thought she is my friend.
ok, not that naively I did see how her passion for our friendship was cooling down.
we met through our partners. she is my husbands friend's wife and in the beginning we were hanging out even without our partners. She would drive 60 km to see me and I would do the same.
Then next thing I remember they were both visiting quite often and we visited them on regular bases. then next next thing I remember she started leaving after 45 minutes but she would let him stay over the night so him and my husband would hang out. but us, all four of us, was over.
I remember asking her once what is going on, if she has a problem with me and she assured she doesn't. Then she would never join us, like she was always busy with something, like her aunite was visiting, or her brother, or she was busy with her own activities. It was quite sad to realize that our friendship is changing but I did not want to believe it.
it was obvious but I didn't want to believe it.

Then they got pregnant and it got worst. She did not even stay at our wedding. I wanted to believe it is because their baby was 2 weeks old, but they knew all the way they will come with a new born child so they booked a room in a hotel next the venue and they even brought her auntie to help them our with the baby. She left after the ceremony and she did not tell us before. Which I found very nasty since she got married herself and she was broke her self so she new herself how annoying it is if you have to pay fr someone that is not there. She did not care.
But I gave her some credits. We visited them after and the visit was ok. She was nice. she was never not nice. I invited them for a visit and for a weeked away, still waiting for an answer, have been three weeks now. I see her online so I know she does have time to message us back letting us know it will not work out. She ignores us. And it hurts. I am hooked. Now because of her attitude--- I am obsessed with her. The mind is comparing me to her.  The mind made her perfect. Literally perfect!
And it tortures me with her. Because of her "I don't really care about you" attitude she seems strong and independent. Strong and confident is what I want so I hate her for that.
In fact she simply doesn't care is she is not a good friend, simple as that, but her attitude is a good food for my bulimia.
I cant let go. It seems like all I have to is I have to forget about her but I don't know why I cannot do that. Ever day, day after day I torture myself with her. She is so much better than me. Because she is confident.
I cried to my husband and he said he has noticed the change in the friendship also, and he says he is sad too, but it is their loss if they don't wanna hang out with us. He told me that she obviously stopped putting an effort into our friendship when she decided they are not moving to new Zealand them selves. So she does not need to work on our friendship because she doesn't need me.
It makes sense. She simply does not need me. It does not even mean she does not like me, it just means she does not need me and she is not willing to invest anything into our friendship if she doesn't get any benefits out of it. Why would she?

I seem to be a very easy prey for people this kind.
My mind is so sick that I get hooked. I let their attitude be my torture.
Its kind of painful. And it seems so hard to let go....
I glorify them.  I glorify them.  I glorify them big time.
Just because they are kind of close and I kind of care, and because they have an attitude like they are looking at me from above.
I look up and I glorify them.  And I don't know how to stop!

I have people  that love me, sincere people, investing in the friendship. But they come second. First there come those two people who don't even care about me if it is not for their own benefits.

I pray to the Universe to give me the strength to accept the fact that we are not real friends and let go of it.

I will be ok.

I am just not Ok at the moment.
It is hard.

I have to live minute by minute otherwise it is too crowded.

So much pain coming out. So much pain to deal with.
Sometimes I find myself feeling grateful for my bulimia because because of bulimia I am going through hard core rehab which is making me a better person. A deeper person. A calmer person. More awake and more real. It brings hope.
Then I find myself feeling like a crap because of bulimia. I feel like I am a weirdo. I feel like I should be punished. I am not patient and I wanna change everything I am.
I am not patient with my body, with my rehab, with my behaving.....I hate everything about myself and I hate everyone who has anything I want for myself.


In situations like this I am suppose to go into my body and see what is going on. Deal with it. Let it speak and more on.
Some things take ages to come out in a form that could be dealt with. It takes months and months, some months turn into a year. But it still happens. Everything happens. Everything comes out when it is ready to be healed. But to be patient with that's whole another story.
last week I didn't feel like going into my body at all. Like It was such relief when I passed it. Like "Uf, so cool. rest!!!No drama, no emotions, no feeling, no crying, no body pain....emptiness only!" Not good for my progress but it really felt good. It is like I am super tired from working so much with myself.
Then yesterday I had my therapy and I worked hard again. I met new places. New darkness. New emotions. New tricks my mind plays. I was with it. I observed. I dealt with.
I left the therapy tired but strong. At peace. Present. Better. Bigger. Stronger. It was almost like I could not wait for the next time I will go into those dark places and explore what's up in there. Because every time I go there I feel stronger afterwards.
it feels Like I can do it. I can recover. I can live my life my way. I am fearless.

Until my mind kicks in again.


I progressed enough to distinguish between self and mind.
That is very helpful and promising.

I could never distinguish between the voices and mind. Mind and self. Self and voices. It was always one thing. I called it me. That was me. I was my voices. I was my crazy mind. I was my father talking from a back of my mind. I was my pain from my childhood. I was my fears. I was my anger. I was my hate.
But now I can see there is me, and then beside that, there is my voices, my mind.
I now can experience a bit of a healthy self. When I experience it Life is just different.
I feel alright. I don't mind my legs. I don't feel gorgeous but I don't feel bad either. I don't mind my belly nor my face. I don't mind my size. I pay little attention to it. I shower daily. I take care of myself daily. When I go out I put some effort into make up and clothing. I feel good. Or more it is like I feel fine with myself. I control my voices when they arise. When they tell me I shouldn't drink wine and I should look more like that friend I met or more like a random lady on a street. I control it. I feel my body and I belong to the moment. I am more at peace. I think differently about myself. I am never full of my self and I don't feel particularly confident or great. It is not about that it is just about living that moment the way it is. When I go to the yoga mat I have noticed the change.....I am oddly calmer and more patient with myself  ... I have been kind of on and off with my practice this summer and the voices would eat me alive everytime I skipped the practice for a week if only they could, but when there is the healthy self present I step on my yoga mat and I am very slow. I don't push myself. I am very, very gentle with myself. I do my postures slow and do just the easy ones. I don't rush. which is very, very, very unusual for me. Sometimes it takes me to a full practice and I sweat and I challenge myself, but sometimes I finish after 10 minutes, feeling better than before. This is unusual.
I have noticed the change when I am PMSing. I bloat quite obviously and my mind gets mental when am PMSing. but lately I have noticed that I recognise my PMS and I am very gentle with myself, again. I don't skip meals like the mind orders me. I tell my mind "I am hormonally messed up now, it is normal that I feel that way, you back off. I am taking my body to bed now." I shower and I shave when I am PMSing to make myself feel at least a little bit better. Usually I make myself a hot bath and I cry. Because I am feeling fat and unattractive. But it is all controlled. I cry while I take care of my body. I light the candles and I listed to the music more during my PMS. Its so unusual. 
This my my healthy self.
I experience it more and more. It started appearing in around april, may. So this is a new thing. And it would appear for brief moments, then few minutes, now it can be present for up to 30 minutes. Sometimes a few times a day.

Then there is the mind. The ruler. The empire. My second life. 
My mild schizophrenia .
My mind is my very dark, cold, loud place.
In that world there is only one rule: You do what I say!!
And can only say one thing: You suck! There is no end to in how many ways it can show me I suck.
My mind is evil.
It is like living with a psychopath!
It is mean.
It wants me to suffer every single moment I spend on this planet.
It hates me. 

Back in worst times I did not recognize my mind. It was all me. It was all just one reality! 
They say that Mind Lies to you. I still cant get my head around that. I still believe he is telling the truth. But now I at least recognize it.

Together with the mind there are also voices from my father. From my mother. 
Those were also very difficult to spot. I learned I have those about year ago, I could tell "Oh there is bulimia talking and there is my parents talking" but I would never try and work with the "parents voices" .... until now.... getting rid of my parents voices is terrible. It is like taking all their power  and smashing it into nothing. My parents with no power are just people. And They are not my powerful parents anymore. And I cant live without my parents. I need my mommy, I need my daddy!
I still turn into a little girl not ready to let go of the "parents voices". It seems impossible. 
I am doing waaaaay better that I used to do, but there is still that emotion inside me, that sensation, feeling like everything will fall apart if I let go.
It is that image I hold in my head they are my creators, they are the source of power.  They are everything. Loosing that image would mean a disaster to me. Nothing else can be real. They are the only truth. And the same I am experiencing with the people I wrote before about. The friend who doesn't actually care but I am hooked, and another one like this and my boss.
I cant let go of them.
My mind does not let me go of them because it would lose its power. It needs those people to torture me with them. If I trust in a life beyond my parents and those other toxic people I am almost cured.

I hold of those images like they are my only meaning of survival.
If I let go I die.

Do I really die or does my sick mind die? My sick mind has a name. Bulimia.
Does I die or does mind die?

What will happen to me? To I?

I have my suspicions....I think I would be just fine.















MIND