Self-Harm (TRIGGER WARNING)

If you knew me in high school, here's what I assume your description of me entailed: got good grades, parents worked at school, did some sports, chorusband, Michael's girlfriend, Ben's little sister, prom queen, nicenormalfriendly girl. You know what you forgot on that list? Self-harmer.

If someone were to tell you to picture someone who "cuts," I bet you a million dollars you're picturing an "emo" teenage girl (or boy) with jet black hair, pounds of eyeliner, listening to Welcome to the Black Parade, carving their perceived sins out of their forearms. Yeah, a lot of people who cut do look that way, but not all of us. Now, I should start off by saying that I didn't "cut" per-say. I could never make myself run a razor blade or knife along my arm. Instead, I would take my thumbnail and run it back and forth on my wrist until it was deep enough to bleed. Took longer. Prolonged the pain. 

The good thing (HA "good thing") was that it looked more like a burn than a cut so I could tell people I burnt my wrist with my curlingstraightening iron on accident and no one would be the wiser. There were some people who questioned it. My best friend, Tyra, my other best friend, Zach, my college boyfriend, my mom. But I could explain it away so easily, it never became an issue. It was never a cause for concern. 

I never wanted to kill myself. That isn't always the point of cutting. "So why do it," you ask? To feel something. To release. Sometimes, things would happen and I would get this feeling that my whole body was swelling like a balloon, not in a "fat" way, but in that all these emotions were blowing me up, trying to escape any way that they could, I could feel them trying to burst out of my fingertips. They needed somewhere to go. They needed a way out. So I opened up my skin and let them seep into the universe, hoping never to see them again. 

The last time I self-harmed was in 2016. Since then, I have gotten a tattoo on my wrist that covers most of my scars although if you look closely, there are still a couple that are visible. It helps remind me that I can cover up my past, but I shouldn't want to. I am my past. My past is what made me. I don't want to forget that this happened in my life. I want to use it to fuel my fire and to remind me that things WILL get better, then they'll get worse, but ultimately, they'll get better again.

The Bad Days.

If you've never experienced any type of mental disorder, this isn't going to make any sense to you, but I hope you'll try to understand anyways.

When it comes to anxiety, some days are worse than others and then there are some days that are the worst of the worst. Yesterday was one of those days for me. The kind of day that I am me without being me. It's as if there were two sides to my brain. One side thought like myself and the other side, someone completely different. The "different side" controls my body and my mouth, then the "me side" is almost floating above me, judging me and hating everything I'm saying and doing.

The "different side" makes me say and do things I don't mean and then I regret them with my whole being for days afterwards. By this, I mean, I feel physically ill with regret about the things my "different side" has made me do. I feel like I'm going to vomit or I punch into my hand repeatedly or scream while I'm in my car. All these things, just to try and get that regret and anger out of my body before it explodes. I would do anything to make it stop. I want to send everyone a message saying I'm sorry for things that I don't even know what I'm sorry for, just to make the overwhelming feeling of regret and guilt go away.

This sounds insane, I know, but I'm being 100% truthful. They say that mental disorders are a chemical imbalance in the brain, so I kind of have a theory. Most of my really bad days come after days that are extremely good. They come after days where I am happy and feel amazing. My theory is that my brain tries to level out the chemicals in my brain when there is too much "happy" chemicals by emitting "downer" chemicals but it doesn't know how to regulate the amount and ends up pouring in a whole cup when the recipe only called for a teaspoon. Now, I'm obviously not a scientist or a psychologist or anything really, this is just how I like to think of what happens to me.

I don't know why these days have to happen to me, and I'm still working on ways to control them or at least manage them. Until then, I'm sorry to anyone I shut out on those days or disappoint on those days. I truly don't mean to.

Eating Disorder Movies: Triggering?

"I'm sorry that I'm not a person anymore, I'm a problem"
-Ellen, To the Bone

Fuck Hollywood's portrayal of eating disorders. The tiny, rail-thin girl who has been to in-patient multiple time and still isn't better. The girl who somehow makes bone-thin look pretty and finds "romance" while she's at the hospital. Fuck that. That's exactly why people with actual eating disorders feel like even bigger failures than before.

"I'm not that skinny..."= I'm not good enough at having an eating disorder.

"I've never been to inpatient..."= I must not really be sick.

"He fell in love with her while she was still sick/in inpatient..."= Being sick is attractive.



I get it though. You can't make a movie factual AND interesting. You've got to keep the viewer hooked so why not add a star-crossed romance in there? Hmm...movie about anorexia? Edgy girl thinks she's fat so doesn't eat...let's have her go to inpatient, make some friends, maybe throw in a boy and then BAM! she starts trying new things and, oh my lanta, actually eats something!, then she relapses but ultimately at the end, she returns to recovery! OH BOY! Fuck that.

Yes, there are definitely truths in these movies. Everybody's eating disorder story is insanely different and unique and seeing the same portrayal over and over again is toxic. You might say, "Then why do you watch them?" Why do you think? It's entirely sick, but we watch them to get ideas. Ideas on how to be "better at being sick." Do you think those disclaimers they show at the beginning are going to deter us from watching? No..if anything, it reinforces the need to watch.

While I obviously completely support getting eating disorder stories, and all mental health stories, out there, I also think they should be done right. That being said...I don't think there's any way to portray any mental health story, especially one about eating disorders, without it being triggering in some way to someone.

Why I Hate Thanksgiving

November 22nd: "Don't eat all day so you can eat tomorrow."

November 23rd, Morning: "Workout for hours so you burn off the calories before you eat them."

November 23rd, Dinner: "How many calories are there in turkey? Bite. Chew. Swallow. Did they use butter in the potatoes? Bite. Chew. Swallow. Why is everyone watching me eat...? Bite. Chew. Swallow. Will they notice if I go to the bathroom after we eat? Bite. Chew. Swallow."

November 24th: "Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. How could you be so weak? It doesn't matter if it was a holiday. So what? You're weak. You gave in and ate. Failure. Fat. Fat. Fat."

Thanksgiving is the hardest holiday for someone with an eating disorder. A holiday revolving around food? Our worst nightmare. You'll go back and forth between guilt and defiance. "I can't eat." "It's a holiday and I'm with my family. I'll eat." "These potatoes are full of butter and carbs." "It's one day a year, I'll be fine." You become stuck in this circuit until you're mentally exhausted. 

And the jokes don't help. "I'm going to have to unbutton my pants after this meal." Why would you ever eat that much? How can you eat that much? "I'm not going to have to eat for a week after this." Ha. Ha. Jokes about restricting are so funny. 

The thing you don't understand is that we've spent weeks, months even, preparing for the emotional turmoil that is the holiday season. So much food and having to eat it in FRONT of people? The constant thought that people are judging your every bite. The questions. "How can you eat potatoes without extra butter?" "You don't want dressing on your salad? Ew." "That's all you're eating?!" 

Please, just take into account that Thanksgiving and huge meals are an insanely tough time for some of us, no matter what stage of recovery we're in. Holidays are hard even for "fully recovered" eating disordered people (I put "fully recovered" in quotes because I don't believe this to be possible). 

Happy Holidays Everyone!!

"I'm Fine..."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine."

I've said before that "I'm sorry" is my catchphrase. If so, my second catchphrase would be "I'm fine." I don't like to talk about myself, and more importantly, I don't like to talk about my feelings. This is not a good trait considering last night I nearly had a mental break down regarding the stress that comes with juggling three jobs. I was freaking out and cried multiple times, harder than anyone should cry because of any job. But the thing is I don't believe I was freaking out solely because of the jobs. Most the time when I cry or have these breakdowns, it's little things that have built up over time from feelings that I don't allow myself to feel. I don't allow myself to feel these feelings because, "I'm fine."

The funny thing is that I could spend hours listening to other people tell me about their problems and feelings and be perfectly fine with it and want to help them in any way that I can. But if I spend one minute talking about my feelings to someone, I immediately feel guilty, like I'm taking up their time or that I am a burden and then I apologize profusely and quit talking. I normally end a sentence about myself with, "I'm sorry for talking about myself so much. It's no big deal. I'm fine." I'm not sure what made me this way or why I feel the need to apologize for having emotions. I just don't want other people to have to worry about me or my problems when I should be able to handle them myself. I shouldn't need help with my emotions. I should be able to control them and I should be able to fix myself. I don't know if "fix" is the right word, but it's the only word I can think of right now. The problem with all of this is, like I said earlier, when I tell other people that I'm fine, I'm mostly trying to convince myself of that and in doing that, I don't allow myself to feel the emotions that I should be feeling. This is where the trouble starts. This is with the emotions start to accumulate behind this dam I've built in my brain until the cracks start leaking and the dam finally breaks and what happened last night happens again. 

In group therapy, my therapist used to give us hand-outs on "mindfulness" and "distress tolerance," etc. One of them was called "Cheerleading Statements for Interpersonal Effectiveness," which I thought was incredibly stupid at the time, but now I kind of get it. Two of the statements it lists are:

1. It's OK to want or need something from someone else.

2. Giving, giving, giving is not the be-all of life. I am an important person in this world, too.

These are two statements that I have been trying to frame my life around. I am important too. I am not a waste of space. I am not a burden. I deserve help too.

I'm so mad...

I'm mad.

Pissed.

Frustrated.

Angry. 

Furious.

Mad that I've wasted more than half my life stuck in the grip of ED (eating disorder). I'm always going to wonder how my life would have gone if I hadn't been preoccupied with my eating disorder, and I don't just mean food or weight. I mean that I was preoccupied with being perfect, not taking up too much space, not being a burden...

I wanted to share a journal entry I wrote my senior year of college (about two years ago) after a particularly important group therapy session.

"I'm just so angry. It's as if all of the anger that I've never felt is building up and radiating out of me now. I've never been able to feel angry without feeling guilty about it or feeling like a bad person for being angry. Now that I know what I'm really angry at, it makes it so much easier and honestly, my anger is just picking up momentum. I'm mad at ED for affecting so many people, and I'm mad at him for affecting me and stealing a huge portion of my life that I can't ever get back. I'm mad that he is still affecting me now and that he's probably always going to affect me. I'm mad that people on the outside just don't understand what it's like to deal with ED and there's no way to explain it to them. Honestly, maybe they don't think that way and I'm furious because ED makes me believe that there's no hope. I'm pissed as hell that ED has made me despise myself. I'm pissed that I can't see a reflection of myself without feeling disgusted and I can't see another girl without comparing myself to her or him for that matter. I'm pissed that I can't focus in class. while studying, while I'm with my friends, or while I do anything without thinking about my self-hatred. This is not a life to lead, a life full of anger and self-hatred, of something so unbelievably hard to control and I'm the most angry that it chose me. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Am I really that bad of a person? That weak that ED saw me and picked me? What did I do wrong?"

It's so easy to be angry at yourself for feeling the way that you do, but remember, it's not you. Get angry at ED. Get angry at your anxiety. Get angry at your depression. NOT at yourself.

"But you don't SEEM like you have social anxiety..."

"You have social anxiety?" 

"Yeah right, you talk so much and are so friendly." 

*Insert eye roll here.*

The truth? I do, in fact, have social anxiety along with the slew of other mental problems. The reason you can't tell that I have social anxiety is partly because I've been taking medication for it since I was 19. That makes five years of taking medication for my social anxiety as well as going to both group and individual therapy. 

Not only does the medication I take help, having social anxiety does not technically mean that you can't speak to people. It means that it's more stressful for you to speak to people or that you over analyze a lot of interactions more than normal people do. So just because I don't seem like I have social anxiety on the outside, doesn't mean that my brain isn't going crazy thinking of all the different scenarios that could go wrong with said interaction.

I read somewhere once that extroverts become energized by social interactions and introverts have their energy drained by social interaction. This makes total sense to me as someone who has social anxiety (which usually means you're introverted). There are times where I need a night or a whole day alone just to recharge my brain. And when I say alone, I mean alone. No friends, no boyfriends, no parents-- alone, where I can just sit and do whatever I want. I can watch Criminal Minds, go on Tumblr and just recharge. Now wanting to be alone isn't because I don't want to be with these people or because I don't like spending time with them, it's purely because for my brain to function properly, I need this time to recharge. 

It's very easy to assume that people don't have mental disorders because they don't act in the typical ways associated with that disorder. Just remember that, that's the point. They don't want you to know that they have a problem and they've probably been working their way to this point for a while. They may be on medication that helps with the disorder or have been going to therapy to help with it. Remember, don't assume, because it just makes and "ass" out of "u" and "me". 😉

John Mulaney talking about having social anxiety is everything: