Mamma was a lunatic...

It's funny how people perceive things from the outside, how most see my picture perfect family and then they discover I'm in therapy. You can see the cogs tick, they scratch their head and try to connect the dots, they try to make sense. That's where I get lost too, because for the best part, I have struggled during the past 18 months to open my eyes to the possibility that it is not simply some inherent flaw within myself but perhaps instead a sequence of unfortunate events.

I love it when family come to visit, they fill you with stories of your youth. This time around my mum told me of her favourite memory of me and my brother in childhood. The pair of us making carrier bag kites, by tying the bags to bits of string. Apparently we had real kites, but we preferred our budget version. Me, I always remember playing 'hunt the pegs' in the garden. I was always searching for things even back then. We'd seem to always wind up losing pegs though, me and my brother hunting for hours, by which time my mum would have forgotten where she placed them all. Then months later, when dad was home for a weekend, he'd find them attached to his prized fuchsias. If it were only ever these memories she shared, things would be a lot simpler.

This time she also chose to fill me in on the day we moved down south. Apparently I, who at this stage was just turned 2, wandered off. She noticed my disappearance when a friendly neighbour from down the road brought me home. Apparently I was fine, because I wasn't crying. It made me think of a conversation I'd been having with a friend about grief, how grief is important because it makes us more careful of those we love. It is apparently an instinctive drive, which forces most to grab their kids, before then step out into a busy road or perhaps before they wander off down an unknown street.

It is is harsh perhaps to call her a lunatic for such acts, which sadly are not limited to this one off occurrence, but I guess there is something pertinent about that fact she finds these stories humorous and endearing. Whilst I have spent my time, searching for pegs in overgrown shurbs, it seems despite claiming otherwise, she has known where they were placed all along. It is just easier to pretend otherwise...

'I'm learning that some things I can't go without, and one of them is him' (Nerina Pallot - Sophia)

I can't do it. Less than 48 hours of no contact and I'm crumbling. Having set the rules so to speak on Monday when I met L for coffee, I'm now regretting every word which left my mouth, well most of them. After a good hour, most of which saw me in tears, the end result was that we would have no contact until she was single and if she wasn't single by Christmas, or rather if she spent Christmas with H, that was it, I would not be willing to attempt to rectify our relationship.Yet the thought of that, the though of not speaking to her for four months, the thought of possible never having her back is crucifying my soul. All I want to do is phone her and beg her to leave H, to love me fully and to come back to me. I'm sat wondering what gifts to send to her door, how to make H walk away, anything just to have her with me. So what do I do, do I ride this out, hope the pain subsides a little, or give in and phone her? I don't know what's best. All I can do is cry and cry and cry. The pain is so intense, unbearable. I just want my baby back.

'Somewhere between the love and the lust, I tried my best but I was maladjusted' (Ben's Brother - Time)

Today's been one of those lazy days, the kind where you wake up at 5pm and realise most of the day has slipped away whilst you slept. The sort where you realise you have no milk (not that I actually drink the stuff) and all the shops has closed. The type that can undoubtedly be classed as a Sunday without even looking at the calendar.
I've accomplished very little, in true Sunday style, had a bath, put some PJ's on and sat traipsing the Internet for musical talent I've yet to discover. Sometimes the search is fruitless, throwing up nothing more than a few B sides of bands I already know and love, today however was different. Whilst looking up gigs in the local area I noticed Ben's Brother (who I'm sure I'd heard of, but not really listened to if you catch my drift), after linking up with their site I sat and listened and was insistently mesmerised. I now fully intend to make my way down to the local music hot spot to check these guys out live and if you're reading this I fully suggest you go check out their site.
Anyway I digress, this blog wasn't really intended to discuss music in a straight-forward format, but rather link music to my life in an emotional sense, to allow me to explore issues I would perhaps otherwise shy away from.

The lyrics I've picked say it all really, they sum up the last 6 months of my relationship with L perfectly, that I tried, but I failed. That due to my maladjustments and emotional issue it simply didn't work. My illness allowed me to push away the one person I cared about most and for that I fear I may never forgive myself. Despite the ranging emotions I feel towards both L and H, one thing that has never left me since the day we spilt is the feeling that deep down, despite what I tell others, I know I am fully responsible for our parting. Whilst I don't think for one moment L left me when she did purely because of my illness (her getting together with H was all far to quick for that to be the only reason) I do think it put a barrier between us long before her actual departure.
In fact, with retrospect my illness affected our relationship further back than anyone may realise, whilst for all intents and purposes my illness began in August 2005, my behaviour traits/quirks/issues/whatever else you wish to label them, were causing cracks to appear long before then.

And then, as if by magic, as if my thinking about her had somehow been transmitted to her L phones. Nice chat to start with, I stupidly text her wondering if she wants to go see 'Ben's Brother' later in the month and then before you know it I begin to get all emotional. Telling her I can't live this double life, of her phoning when she wishes and saying she loves me, then no contact for days. A life of knowing she wants to be with me but won't split with H for financial reasons, a life of knowing that right now I'm the other woman. So I've made a decision, one which pains me, but one which for the meantime will probably do me a lot of good. I see her tomorrow after my Dr's appointment (because she booked one for her right before mine) and we are going for coffee and it is then that I'm going to tell her not to make contact with me until she's single.
As I write this I'm crying, I'm heartbroken that I'm having to do this, but I see no other way. I can't keep hearing all this stuff about how she loves me, about how H is doing her head in, about how she's going out on Friday with H and she's warning me because she have to act like nothing is wrong between them so I may witness that if I go, etc etc etc. I can keep being second best, I can't keep hearing how she can't do anything about her situation right now, because she could. She could do any number of things, including getting a lodger in, get a loan, moving house, speaking to the landlady etc but she wont, she's choosing not to act, therefore I am. I don't want to be second best anymore. I refuse to be second best. So that its, tomorrow it's goodbye.

I'm dreading it.

'I've tripped again and things are starting to get interesting, don't give me choices 'cos I can't decide' (Anna Nalick - Consider This)

I'm so sick of being me sometimes it hurts. I'm sick of existing purely to cut myself or starve myself or stuff my gut with food only to vomit it back up later. Why after 2 years of counselling and therapy is it still my only way to cope when things get tough?
I guess I saw it coming and despite thinking that going to visit B and the girls would be productive it only served to worsen my mood and tip me further over the edge. One minute I'm going to help B paint his room, next thing when I mention it in front of the girls, they pipe up that L is doing it. Why do I even bother, I'd even spoken to L and said I was doing it, so somewhere some one's said something that's changed all that. I'm not bothered who does it to be honest, but I'm sick of not knowing where I stand. I'd just like some honesty from people, yet I don't think I'll ever get it.
I'm still sat pondering what really happened with L and H, whether or not tings were instigated before she officially left me. I'm still convinced it did and snippets I have heard from others suggest I'm not entirely mad so I guess that should answer it all. So why am I still her pawn? On discussing it with B tonight I pointed out that I feel right now like she feels like she's already hurt me, so it's easy to remain living with H until she's sorted financially and continue hurting me, rather than hurt someone else to and mess herself up financially and I guess that says it all. Despite the fact we're not together, I continue to put her first in everything I do, every thought I have, every action I take, considers how she would feel, yet she doesn't do the same for me, she's putting herself and her needs first, above mine.
Much as it pains me to say it, I'm not sure I want to be in a relationship like that, I want to be respected, i want my thoughts and feelings considered, I want to be put first, at least some of the time. I'm considered last by everybody, walked all over constantly and continually hurt by it. I wish I had the ability to be selfish, but no matter how hard I try, others always seem to get put before me.
Dad phoned tonight, started harping on about Christmas, asking when I was coming home etc. When I said I wasn't sure, suggested that I wanted to get back to have some of Christmas with the kids etc he seemed to constantly extend the length of my stay, ideally, I'd go home after my exams on the 23rd of December and travel home boxing day evening, but the way he was going on, it was like I was expected to be there for longer. He's stressing over booking tickets for a show, saying if me and S can't decide when we are going home then he won't book us tickets and we'll have to stay in bored if we do end up there. Well fine, seems he's happy to put his needs first, express his expectation of when he expects me home, but doesn't give a damn about me or when I may want to go home. He doesn't seem to realise it's events like this that make me want to stay away even more. When I feel pressured to do something, I resist, it makes me annoyed and agitated and I rebel. I'd like to feel like I could go home when I wanted, but I always feel like there's an expectation, that I should be there when it suits them, regardless of how I feel.
I'm slipping again, I want to curl up and die, as I'm sat writing, I'm thinking to myself that I wont even be here for Christmas. It seems like such a long time away, right now making the end of the week seems impossible, let alone Christmas. December means, getting enrolled at uni properly, turning up to uni, getting through my exams, coping with all the emotional shit I have going on etc, etc, it just doesn't seem feasible right now.

'When you gonna make up your mind? When you gonna love you as much as I do?' (Tori Amos - Winter)

Urgh, urgh, urgh and a bit more urgh to boot. Why do I allow her to do it? Why do I answer the phone when she calls? Why do I feel compelled to be at her beck and call every minute of every day? Why does every decision revolve around what she would think? Why do I still love her? Do I still love her? Can I ever forgive her actions? Can I ever forgive myself? So many questions, so few answers.
I often know the answers before I start writing here, I always know what I want to explore and where I'm taking it so to speak. Yet this seems different, I have no clue what to write, no idea how I feel about things and no understanding of how another persons behaviour affects me. What I do know, is yet again I answered a late night call from L only to have her tell me that she loves me. Why? Why do I need to keep hearing that? I'm well aware of it, she has said it often enough, but if she really cared that deeply, why is she calling me from her car before entering the house where her present girlfriend waits for her? If she really cared, despite the financial implications she would leave her, wouldn't she?
I feel like the 'other woman' after nearly seven years of a relationship I'm stuck accepting that the best I can have is snippets of phone conversations and random meet ups either when H is at work or when she grants permission for me to be visited. It sucks, plain and simple. I said I wasn't going to be dragged into this game and yet here I am, somehow in the midst of it, hook, line and sinker. Why am I still so powerless to resist her charm, she's like a drug I can't quit, more addictive than heroin. I know I need to put a stop to this, I know I need to be strong resist contact but I already feel so weak and needy I'm not sure I have the strength to do it right now.
I wish I had the answers, I'm still so full of hurt given the way H treated me and meanwhile L gets away Scot free, with the best of both worlds. Part of me wants to let H into what is happening, to destroy her world just like she did mine, but doing that will only screw L's world up too and then I risk losing her forever. Equally I should be blaming L to, she's no innocent party to this chaos which has arrived. Of course once you start playing that game, it becomes apparent that I am also not blame free in this matter. Perhaps I am the most to blame, after all it was me that pushed them together, my illness which sparked a divide and my inability to cope with life last summer that lead to my return home.
If only things had been different, if only I had kept this under wraps, things would be so much easier. I'd give anything to go back to years (pretty much to this date incidentally) and cancel that first Dr's appointment. I wish I'd never let on that the cracks were starting to show, maybe then I could have prevent the chaos which has ensued. The chaos and havoc it has created not only with in my life, but equally in that of the kids and my family. I have created so much disruption, messed up plans for so many people, I wish I could go back and change it all. I'm sick of being responsible for so much damage. If I wasn't damaged good myself that I wouldn't cause this mess.
I can see and inevitable response occurring here, I feel messy, I have a world of feelings whirling around in my head and nothing constructive to do with them, so again I'll go off, self harm, punish myself for the bad person I am and then eat the rest of it away, until I'm satisfied that I am repulsive enough for no one to ever want to come near me again. How sad is that. I know what will happen and yet it will still occur. People will say it doesn't have to be that way, that there are alternatives, talking to people, going for a walk etc. However that won't cure this, it may delay a response, give me time to think things over a bit, perhaps do slightly less damage but I'll still feel like binging and cutting later, I always do. I simply cannot tolerate feeling this way, so overwhelmed and anxious. So hurt and rejected. So guilty and disgusting.

'Everyday I fight a war against the mirror, I can't take the person staring back at me, I'm a hazard to myself' (P!nk - Don't Let Me Get Me)

So here we are again, full restriction mode in place. I'm not sure what I hope to achieve this time round, knowing that I've been down this path before to no avail and yet I feel powerless to stop it. The skinny jeans buried at the bottom of the wardrobe aren't helping, if anything they're taunting me from afar, daring me to once again find a way to fit into them, regardless of the cost. But what will a pair of size 6's accomplish, will it even end there this time around, or will I push it to the maximum?
In a sensible, responsible mode, I know where this will lead and it isn't pleasant. Constantly being cold no matter how many layers I wear, concentration which flickers on and off like a light bulb, bad skin, sore joints, cramps in my legs, infections, dizziness, blood tests, supplements, chipped teeth, insomnia. The list is endless. So why knowing all of that first hand do I chose to continue, what do I hope to accomplish? This certainly isn't a recipe for success where my degree is concerned, I'll be lucky if I'm awake enough to actually attend lectures, let alone the cycle ride there or the essays I'll need to write. Equally it won't do my mental health much good either, fatigue is good for no one. I'm going to become a walking zombie, yet still I continue.
It's a denial, of both food and feeling. Life is too overwhelming right now to allow myself to feel this pain, the only way to sort it is to deny food and deny thoughts, letting out minimal issues through the use of a razor blade. I seem to go through patterns, discuss my feelings, explore things and binge binge binge, like you've never seen anyone eat before. Or stop the whole lot, don't feel anything and equally don't eat. I swing between these two constantly, never able to find the balance of allowing myself to express feelings in a controlled fashion and equally allow my eating to be controlled. It's all or nothing, every time.
Proof that I'm in full ana mode has to come from the stupid hour at which I'm posting this, I've been ill for days and could do with some rest but my body seems to think otherwise. You'd think when starved a body would want more sleep, to use up a few resources as possible but the opposite seems true, at least where getting to sleep is concerned. So where do I go from here? I can see the pattern, understand the reason for my behaviour and know the answer to overcome it, but it's never that simple. Knowing what I'm doing and why I'm doing it are the easy part, I can identify those areas quite nicely now. Yet I still can't find a way to let things out gradually, it's nothing or floodgates, either way I can't win.

'Lights go out and I can't be saved, tides that I tried to swim against have brought me down upon my knees' (Coldplay - Clocks)

I long for the peace I felt not so long ago, when my mind stopped and I lay waiting for fate to take its course. The soothing feeling of knowing that I would no longer have to endure the daily struggles to simply survive offered the comfort of a mothers' womb, the idea that I would wake in a hospital bed the next day escaped my mind as if it would never occur. There are not words to describe the mixed emotions of that night, the sudden realisation that everything I worked so hard to build had come crashing down around my feet swallowed what little fight there was left and final gave me license to buy into the thoughts which have invaded my mind for so many years.
The moment had been planned for so long, originally when a date was set I never fully believed I'd go through with my decision. It was set so far in advance because I was longing for life to improve before the day arrived. How wrong can one person be? I'm not sure if the downward spiral of events leading up to the night were destined to happen anyway or as the time approached I provoked people to act in certain ways in order to justify my choice. I know for sure the events of the evening were as a direct result of the latter. By pushing away the one person I cared about most I gave myself permission to give up and act upon the darker thoughts of my mind.
I remember feeling frantic once the choice had been made, all I wanted to do was get home and swallow the handfuls of pills I have been so carefully hoarding. I think upon reflection I wanted to make sure nobody had the ability to stop me, to talk me round or convince me that there was a slim possibility of hope. The last spark of my soul disappeared that night and I've not managed to regain it since. I'm beginning to think I never will. This depression and despair has been with me for too many years for the light to suddenly come back on.
Once again I find myself fighting for an existence I'm not even sure I want. Trying to rebuild the foundations of my life upon ground which is far too weathered and worn for the cement to hold. All I can do to escape the harsh reality of this world is daydream about feeling a peace like I felt that night. That's not to say I'm going to just act on impulse again, this is far too important a decision to act upon without proper preparation. I've always said if I'm going to go, I'm going to do it properly and not mess it up, I've made one failed attempt I'm sure as hell not going to do that again. I guess in some twisted sense I feel like I've messed my entire life up, if there's one thing I desperately want to get right it's this.