As my memories rests, but never forgets what I lost

Like my father’s come to pass, seven years has gone so fast
Wake me up when September ends
Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we all

September marks seven years since everything flipped upside down, since everything turned topsy-turvy, since my life went totally off-kilter. It’s kind of funny because even though my father isn’t actually dead as in he kicked the bucket, emotionally he’s dead to me as I don’t speak to him, haven’t seen him in seven years.

Funnily enough, this time seven years ago this song was all over the radio. I heard it on the bus going to school every single morning (along with the DHT cover of “Listen To Your Heart”). Kind of funny that seven years later, it sums up my feelings about the month of September.

September isn’t as loaded as October 31st is for me, but September is still a month of loss, a time of grief. September 2005 is when my health started spiraling out of control. September 2005 was when I started to realize who my true friends were. So much happened seven years ago. So much happened.

As my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends


I fully believe that one day my memory will be at ease, but I don’t know when that day will be. I believe there will be one day that’s not taunted by flashbacks and nightmares and painful memories. I fully believe that will be a day where it will all just be another faded scar, another jaded memory. Kind of like the lyrics from the opening theme of my favourite anime (taken from the Japanese translation to English and not the English version): “Even when yesterday’s wounds remain, take yesterday’s tears and turn them into tomorrow’s strength.”

I don’t have to let the past control me. I don’t have to let myself be consumed by the memories. But just because I finally process the pain after all these years, just because I finally come to terms with the past, doesn’t mean that I forget it. It doesn’t mean that I have to forget it at all, but it also doesn’t have to be at the forefront of my memory.

A lot has changed in seven years. I’ve gone from an 18 year old high school senior to a 25 year old college student. I never dreamed on my first day of high school that these seven years would turn out the way that they did: The whole ordeal with my father, losing my health, losing some of my mobility, moving to Minnesota, taking time of school, still being in College, this, that, and the other. It’s kind of baffling, really, what all has happened over the course of seven years. And how in some ways I’m so different, but in some ways some things never change.

All this doesn’t mean that sometimes I just want to skip the month of September, and October as well for good measure. Maybe one September, I won’t just want it to end before it begins .Maybe one September, I won’t want it to just go away.

will i lose my dignity? will someone care?
will i wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
there’s only us, there’s only this,
forget regret, or life is yours to miss.
no other road, no other way, no day but today.

It’s not September yet. It will be in just over an hour. It may be a difficult time – but maybe this year at long last, I can start healing and fully living it the now, instead of being trapped in the past.

i don’t remember the first time i felt unbeautiful, the day i chose not to eat

It’s funny the impact just eating has on me. It’s a natural human process. It’s something we have to do to survive. And yet, it’s something that I struggle with and that tears me apart.

I had a good dinner tonight. Best I’ve had in quite awhile. And because of that, I’m still awake even though it’s 2 am. My brain won’t be quiet. Lord knows it’s a good thing I ate as my weight is the lowest it’s been in years. Lord knows I need the calories and nutrients.  But it’s difficult.

I know I’ve lost weight lately. I know I should care more about getting food into my system. But it’s difficult to muster up the willingness to care. It’s difficult to get food into me. I don’t know what I’m going to have to do to get myself to eat. It’s terrifying, really, the way this disorder, this sickness controls me.

I don’t want to be this way, but I don’t know how to be any other. And frankly, to cross to the other side is terrifying. To recover. To be healed. To be whole. It’s kind of a paradox because I don’t want to get better yet I want to. I want to yet I don’t now how. What if I don’t like being healthy? What if I gain too much weight? What if I flip to the other extreme and start eating too much?

And now it’s approaching 3. And I still can’t sleep. And it’s taken me THIS long to write this short of an entry. But why? I don’t want to finally meet the diagnostic criteria for anorexia, because on one hand while I feel ED-NOS is “not legit”, I know it is. I know that you don’t have to be severely underweight to die or have serious health effects from an eating disorder.

But at the same thing… it’s kind of like a verse in the Bible. “The things I don’t want to do I do, the things I want to do I don’t.” It just feels that I get trapped. Completely Trapped.

And  I don’t now what to do. It’s hard because I’m having a bad PTSD night. It’s well after 3 am, everyone is asleep. Everyone, that is, but me. Because I’m scared to sleep. Because I’m afraid of what will happen if I sleep. Because being scared to sleep as a child is still ingrained in me. because I’m still at my core, terrified.

this is your life, are you who you want to be?

I’m kind of freaked out at the moment. Okay, let’s rephrase that. I’m very freaked out. I very much want to go in the ministry. I want to teach, to reach, to help. But I don’t think that Director of Christian Outreach is right. I’m not made to witness to people! I can’t do these face to face convos, calling people to faith! I can’t help a pregnant woman, because I don’t fully believe that abortion is wrong. I can’t help a gay person, because I don’t know that it’s wrong to be gay and I’ve become more accepting of it over the years.

But how can I be a director of Christian outreach when bringing people into the church freaks me out? I don’t want to bring new people in – I want to help the ones who are here. I go into a cold sweat, panic, puke, cry, clam up, and my mind goes blank when I have to do this stuff – even though I know it all logically. I can do it over a messenger. But if i have to do it in person? It’s a living hell. I’m not made to do this! I want to teach! I want to read about Mark (my favourite gospel) and make it relatable! I want to play with children! I want to do young adult ministry! (I can’t deal with teenagers :P) I don’t want to pull new people into the church! I’m fine with helping the broken, Lord knows i want to help those who have been broken be it by the church or by life or both. But I’m not the one to pull them into a relationship with Christ.

I’ve been struggling with this for awhile. It doesn’t help that my eating disorder is out of control, it doesn’t help that my pain and depression and ADD are not medicated. (I go to pick up my Remeron  tomorrow). It doesn’t help that I’m struggling to pass math. It doesn’t help that I’m trying to find an apartment, move off campus, line up doctor’s appointments. And at times it feels like I’m doing it all single-handedly. It doesn’t help that I feel so stressed out.

It’s like I’m playing Pokemon, and I’m up against a trainer who has the attack that’s super effective against me. We’re down to a grass pokemon and a fire pokemon, and I have no other pokemon left other than my poor Leafeon and they’re kicking ass with Rapidash. I can’t flee from a trainer battle, and so attack after attack is hurled at me until I faint, until I black out.

Y U PICK ON ME? THAT NO IZ NICE.

Ahem. Anyway, I’m struggling with this. This is my life, is it who I want to be? I try to make the changes to make things better but it’s hard. And there are some things I cannot change. I guess it’s like the serenity prayer:

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to accept the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.”
It just seems like such a struggle some days. Every attack is super effective, and wears me down more and more. I just don’t know what to do anymore and how to keep pulling through. 

now it’s time to say good night…

‘Kay, so it’s 3:24 am. My alarm goes off at 5:45 am. Logic says I should be asleep. But I’m not. I’m sick – I’m coughing up a lung. I’m in pain – good thing the alarm goes off so I can go to the pain clinic.

But the main reason I avoid sleep lately? It’s so I avoid the nightmares. The crippling tiredness is the less painful thing to deal with. If I’m awake, at least I can distract myself from such painful thoughts.

If I’m asleep, there’s no solace. No comfort. No serenity.

And it sucks.

This was not very deep. I want to write more – oh, how I long to write. How I long to process my thoughts, get others thoughts on my thoughts (I’m not vain and think my thoughts are profound and amazing, but I like to get thoughts on my thoughts) and all that. But right now I’m on cruise control – just surfing through life the best I can. And it kinda sucks, it really does. Because there’s so much going on that needs to come out… but I don’t know how to PULL it out!