Thanks for checking my blog even though I’ve been severely derelict about posting.
Listening to Pink’s “Conversations with my 13 year old self” while procrastinating for finals reminded me of the sad drawings I used to doodle in Middle School. I updated my typical picture. There is no longer a cage surrounding the child I used to be…. though my drawing skills have not improved one iota in 15 years!
The random object to my left is my first attempt at a leg. Woot for not tearing it up
Also, I found an awesome, sweet, cuddly, hilarious kitty wandering around my apartment complex about a month ago. The leasing office called the sheriff and he had no microchip. They kept him for a day and then prepared to turn him over to a shelter. He is so people-oriented I thought he would not handle a shelter well. Someone loved him and misses him. We put up flyers and posted on local lost pet websites. I’ve fallen in love. Here is my buddy:
What gives you hope? Are you holding on for someone you love, future aspirations, or something else?
I complain a lot about not having many friends and not having a significant other, but I sit here avoiding my 2 or 3 friends and ignoring interested people because I don’t deserve caring.
Acting opposite is hard.
I caught myself thinking, “My eating disorder will always be my friend.”
Am I Dark Willow or am I Warren? Haha, I’m not sure. However, I am sure “my eating disorder is my friend” is a messed up thought and I’m mad at myself for thinking it. WHY am I prioritizing a deadly mental illness over relationships with other human beings?!
It didn’t last long. I took my medication today. I couldn’t sleep last night and I need to study today. More importantly, I had a passing homicidal thought. I’ve never been tempted to act on those thoughts in the same way I’m tempted with suicide at times. However, they still terrify me! I know most people have passing thoughts when angry at loved one, but it still scares me.
In my case, I’m not angry. I think about it when I’m suicidal because I know my death would destroy my mom. Therefore, in my darkest moments, I (rarely) contemplate murder-suicide to solve the guilt over leaving my mom. I know it is messed up and irrational and wrong, but nonetheless, it comes to mind. So, back on meds I go.