Spades
he/him
- Jul 7, 2023
- 45
So much has happened in my life since I last made a post here. I'm not really sure where to start, I'm a bit scatterbrained at the moment and I don't have anyone to talk to right now.
I don't really care if no one reads this, I just need to get this all off my chest.
I can't keep it all in anymore and this is the only place I know of that's geared towards talking about mental health shit that's too severe for the average person to comprehend/handle.
I'll likely go from topic to topic with little rhyme or reason. I just really need to vent about a bunch of shit (mostly about my ed and relationship)
It's becoming increasingly difficult to grasp a thought for more than a minute. I don't think words can describe how annoying this is.
I have no one to blame but myself really, it's just the price of having an eating disorder I guess.
Speaking of eating disorders, that's one thing I haven't mentioned I think? To be more specific, I have EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified) EDNOS can be.. a lot of things, it's basically when you have an eating disorder that doesn't meet the hyper-specific criterias for anorexia, bulimia, binge eating, etc.
In my specific case, I restrict my calories, I throw up, and I binge. Thus, leaving me in a painful state of limbo where I've been stuck at the same, average weight for the past 2 years.
You wouldn't be able to tell I was suffering from an ED just by looking at me. My pain was invisible.
This was the case, until very recently (TW numbers)
I was about 100 pounds a few months ago prior to getting back together with my ex, I'm currently 90-88 pounds. I don't know the exact number because I don't own a scale, but I was around 92 when I was weighed at a doctor's appointment.
My ED worsening wasn't directly caused by getting back with my ex. I say directly rather than not at all because the stress of not wanting to fuck it up this time has definitely been a significant factor in my ED getting worse. But it's not his fault that I'm coping with it badly.
For context, I've been dating him on and off for the past 2 years. Our break-ups have always been a result of my own self-destructive tendencies. I have a long history of abusive relationships, so when I finally met someone who didn't treat me like used goods, I felt like I didn't deserve him.
He's been nothing but kind and understanding to me. I've left 3 times and I was always welcomed back with open arms, but I know I'd be on thin ice if I were to leave for a 4th time.
We weren't immediately back to dating after I reached out like all the other times, it took 2 months for him to trust me again and for us to resume our relationship.
He's never said it himself, but I know I have one more chance and that's been driving me crazy. I'm so scared of losing him again and being left with no one to talk to, and with no one to blame but myself for it.
Adding onto that, I'm poly, and he's poly, but our relationship is more akin to an open relationship rather than a poly one.
Ideally, I'd be in a relationship with his 4 other boyfriends and we'd all do couple shit together, that's like your typical polycule.
Instead, he's in a relationship with 4 other people I hardly know. I'd have no issue with this arrangement if I was at least friends with them, you know?
It doesn't help the fact that I feel like he's gotten bored of me and just uses me to get a quick wank in every now and then because we happen to share a weird kink that I draw porn of.
Our conversations have always been sexually charged to some extent, but I had always felt cared for after the fact. Underneath all the kink shit, there was empathy and kindness. He was interested in what I had to say regardless of it being kink-related or not.
I don't feel like that's the case anymore sometimes even though he constantly reassures me that he loves me and makes time for me whenever possible.
Despite knowing that he DOES care about me because he shows it, that doesn't change the fact that I still feel so fucking replaceable and it's fucking with my head.
I can't afford to break off the relationship nor would I EVER want to hurt him like that again even though it hurts to constantly have my BPD fueled thoughts eat me up inside over nothing because no matter how much it hurts, nothing can ever hurt as much as being alone.
But I'm scared that when he looks at me, like REALLY looks at me, he'll find out that there was never anything there to begin with. He'll find himself face to face with a disgusting thing that disguises itself under human skin.
Its mannerisms are like that of a parrot, regurgitating things it's heard in a pathetic attempt to seem human. It stumbles upon its every word, and it trips over its own skin in its desperate attempts at trying to copy the confusing, albeit mesmerizing dance of socialization.
It watches humans in awe and in envy as they dance together so seamlessly, their sense of rhythm rivals that of the most acclaimed musicians. The way they navigate the ebb and flow of a conversation would be hypnotizing if it weren't so aggravating.
I don't feel that I'm replaceable, I KNOW that I am. I'm inadequate in every way imaginable, I'm annoying, I have no personality, loud, paranoid, severely mentally ill, ETC.
I am a lot of things, none of which are remotely good or even slightly interesting. I'm just a bag of horrible flaws with no redeeming qualities, sloppily concealed within a disgusting flesh suit.
/// more ED talk, I didn't know where else to put this sorry
I still binge, but I restrict more than I binge so I've been losing weight rapidly. Normally this would be a great thing, but I don't live alone.
Living with other people while dealing with an ED that's increasingly becoming more severe is HELL because you're essentially living under the threat of forced hospitalization everyday.
That's the scariest part about an ED to me, and I say this while constantly dealing with moments where I can't breathe properly because my heart rate is beating too slowly for it to pump enough blood, which then leaves me with juuust enough oxygen to not suffocate.
Though, I'm sure that I WOULD suffocate if I wasn't actively trying to breathe. I've thought about dying this way, but I again, live with other people and it takes a fuck ton of time n pain to die that way.
Not that pain is something that turns me away from a method, at least when it comes to my death. I still hate the feeling of my body sending its signals of torment when I'm not actively dying because I'm a massive fucking pussy.
Quick and excruciatingly painful will always be preferable to slow and infinitely more painful in my mind,
Why? Well I'm a VERY impatient person and I would much rather get this shit over with so I can make my way into the vast and
incomprehensible nothingness of non-existence in a timely manner.
But the main reason is that,
I'm just not scared of how painful a method is anymore due to how drastically my perspective on that pain has shifted;
I see it as the ultimate culmination of all the pain and suffering I'll be forced into enduring if I continue to live.
Though, I'd argue that the pain of my final moments, no matter how torturous they'll likely be, will always pail in comparison to the agony of a future where I'm stuck with a fucked up brain as my only permanent companion.
All in all, I'm just not doing all that well. I'm a lot better mentally than I was before I reconnected with my boyfriend and I love him to bits, but I still want to die.
Which is what I expected to be the case. Unlike my therapist who thought I'd be less suicidal if I wasn't lonely. :/
I don't really care if no one reads this, I just need to get this all off my chest.
I can't keep it all in anymore and this is the only place I know of that's geared towards talking about mental health shit that's too severe for the average person to comprehend/handle.
I'll likely go from topic to topic with little rhyme or reason. I just really need to vent about a bunch of shit (mostly about my ed and relationship)
It's becoming increasingly difficult to grasp a thought for more than a minute. I don't think words can describe how annoying this is.
I have no one to blame but myself really, it's just the price of having an eating disorder I guess.
Speaking of eating disorders, that's one thing I haven't mentioned I think? To be more specific, I have EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified) EDNOS can be.. a lot of things, it's basically when you have an eating disorder that doesn't meet the hyper-specific criterias for anorexia, bulimia, binge eating, etc.
In my specific case, I restrict my calories, I throw up, and I binge. Thus, leaving me in a painful state of limbo where I've been stuck at the same, average weight for the past 2 years.
You wouldn't be able to tell I was suffering from an ED just by looking at me. My pain was invisible.
This was the case, until very recently (TW numbers)
I was about 100 pounds a few months ago prior to getting back together with my ex, I'm currently 90-88 pounds. I don't know the exact number because I don't own a scale, but I was around 92 when I was weighed at a doctor's appointment.
My ED worsening wasn't directly caused by getting back with my ex. I say directly rather than not at all because the stress of not wanting to fuck it up this time has definitely been a significant factor in my ED getting worse. But it's not his fault that I'm coping with it badly.
For context, I've been dating him on and off for the past 2 years. Our break-ups have always been a result of my own self-destructive tendencies. I have a long history of abusive relationships, so when I finally met someone who didn't treat me like used goods, I felt like I didn't deserve him.
He's been nothing but kind and understanding to me. I've left 3 times and I was always welcomed back with open arms, but I know I'd be on thin ice if I were to leave for a 4th time.
We weren't immediately back to dating after I reached out like all the other times, it took 2 months for him to trust me again and for us to resume our relationship.
He's never said it himself, but I know I have one more chance and that's been driving me crazy. I'm so scared of losing him again and being left with no one to talk to, and with no one to blame but myself for it.
Adding onto that, I'm poly, and he's poly, but our relationship is more akin to an open relationship rather than a poly one.
Ideally, I'd be in a relationship with his 4 other boyfriends and we'd all do couple shit together, that's like your typical polycule.
Instead, he's in a relationship with 4 other people I hardly know. I'd have no issue with this arrangement if I was at least friends with them, you know?
It doesn't help the fact that I feel like he's gotten bored of me and just uses me to get a quick wank in every now and then because we happen to share a weird kink that I draw porn of.
Our conversations have always been sexually charged to some extent, but I had always felt cared for after the fact. Underneath all the kink shit, there was empathy and kindness. He was interested in what I had to say regardless of it being kink-related or not.
I don't feel like that's the case anymore sometimes even though he constantly reassures me that he loves me and makes time for me whenever possible.
Despite knowing that he DOES care about me because he shows it, that doesn't change the fact that I still feel so fucking replaceable and it's fucking with my head.
I can't afford to break off the relationship nor would I EVER want to hurt him like that again even though it hurts to constantly have my BPD fueled thoughts eat me up inside over nothing because no matter how much it hurts, nothing can ever hurt as much as being alone.
But I'm scared that when he looks at me, like REALLY looks at me, he'll find out that there was never anything there to begin with. He'll find himself face to face with a disgusting thing that disguises itself under human skin.
Its mannerisms are like that of a parrot, regurgitating things it's heard in a pathetic attempt to seem human. It stumbles upon its every word, and it trips over its own skin in its desperate attempts at trying to copy the confusing, albeit mesmerizing dance of socialization.
It watches humans in awe and in envy as they dance together so seamlessly, their sense of rhythm rivals that of the most acclaimed musicians. The way they navigate the ebb and flow of a conversation would be hypnotizing if it weren't so aggravating.
I don't feel that I'm replaceable, I KNOW that I am. I'm inadequate in every way imaginable, I'm annoying, I have no personality, loud, paranoid, severely mentally ill, ETC.
I am a lot of things, none of which are remotely good or even slightly interesting. I'm just a bag of horrible flaws with no redeeming qualities, sloppily concealed within a disgusting flesh suit.
/// more ED talk, I didn't know where else to put this sorry
I still binge, but I restrict more than I binge so I've been losing weight rapidly. Normally this would be a great thing, but I don't live alone.
Living with other people while dealing with an ED that's increasingly becoming more severe is HELL because you're essentially living under the threat of forced hospitalization everyday.
That's the scariest part about an ED to me, and I say this while constantly dealing with moments where I can't breathe properly because my heart rate is beating too slowly for it to pump enough blood, which then leaves me with juuust enough oxygen to not suffocate.
Though, I'm sure that I WOULD suffocate if I wasn't actively trying to breathe. I've thought about dying this way, but I again, live with other people and it takes a fuck ton of time n pain to die that way.
Not that pain is something that turns me away from a method, at least when it comes to my death. I still hate the feeling of my body sending its signals of torment when I'm not actively dying because I'm a massive fucking pussy.
Quick and excruciatingly painful will always be preferable to slow and infinitely more painful in my mind,
Why? Well I'm a VERY impatient person and I would much rather get this shit over with so I can make my way into the vast and
incomprehensible nothingness of non-existence in a timely manner.
But the main reason is that,
I'm just not scared of how painful a method is anymore due to how drastically my perspective on that pain has shifted;
I see it as the ultimate culmination of all the pain and suffering I'll be forced into enduring if I continue to live.
Though, I'd argue that the pain of my final moments, no matter how torturous they'll likely be, will always pail in comparison to the agony of a future where I'm stuck with a fucked up brain as my only permanent companion.
All in all, I'm just not doing all that well. I'm a lot better mentally than I was before I reconnected with my boyfriend and I love him to bits, but I still want to die.
Which is what I expected to be the case. Unlike my therapist who thought I'd be less suicidal if I wasn't lonely. :/
