Sunday, January 3, 2016

Suicidal Ideation

I've been gone for three months. What have I to say? Not much.

I started sharing my feelings on here because I hoped that anyone who needed to read my blog would find it. But I never had a plan for what to share and when I did make one, I didn't stick to it. And I didn't do much to direct people here.

Now, I'm been sharing quotes, poems, and excerpts on Instagram. I've started reviewing shows on Tweezine. I've got quite a Pinterest following. I comment on YouTube videos and sometimes have conversations.

But this is where I get to be the most real. My thoughts don't get interrupted by others'. I can go into more detail without worrying about losing anyone.

I'll keep blogging. At the moment I'm not sure if I'll stick to a schedule but I know poems, chapters, memories, and definitions will continue to be posted.

---

Today's phrase: Suicidal Ideation

Proper definition
Medical News Today -  Suicidal thoughts, also known as suicidal ideation are thoughts about how to kill oneself, which can range from a detailed plan to a fleeting consideration and does not include the final act of killing oneself

Wikipedia - concerns thoughts about or an unusual preoccupation with suicide/death

Valleybehavioral.com - Suicidal ideation is broken down into two forms: active and passive. Active suicidal ideation involves an existing wish to die accompanied by a plan for how to carry out the death. Passive suicidal ideation involves a desire to die, but without a specific plan for carrying out the death

My comments - I fully understand the first.

The second confuses me only because of "unusual". Maybe it is because I've been around death a lot or it's because I suffer from Suicidal Ideation but it just really stands out to me. How would one measure an  "unusual" amount? I've been weirded out by how much some people I know talk about death. Is that a sign for me to worry about them?

The third definition is great. I think I operate life in a passive S.I. state but have moments through the day of active S.I.

In Real Life

I cannot speak for everyone who suffers from it. But I can share what it means for me.

Almost every bad moment leads to a thought of "wouldn't it be better if I was dead?" "If I was dead, I wouldn't feel anything. I wouldn't feel like this now." "If I was gone, I wouldn't have said, did the wrong thing. This person wouldn't feel this way."

Suicidal Ideation is never knowing when a bad moment will come but knowing that when it does, bad thoughts won't be far behind.

It's walking down stairs and thinking "if I miss one, just one little tumble or skip, I'll end up on the floor, possibly with bones twisted in interesting and exciting ways."

It's walking down the street and waiting to cross thinking "if I leap out now, would the car screech to a stop soon enough?"

It's sitting around the house and moving to pick something up. It's that little thought, "how pretty would my arms be, dripping red? Which way would the knive, scissors, razor swerve if I just let it drop and let gravity do the work?"

It's the little moments like missing a bus, losing your keys, not charging your phone that has you questioning everything. "Is there even a point? I'll do the same thing next week, or something worse tomorrow. Is there a reason to wait and see what kind of new terrible things I can just barely get through?"

It's knowing that even though these thoughts exist, even though your head is always a mess and making you sad to have to hear and visualize these painful things, you will never complete them.

It's wondering if surviving can really be considered being strong, as they say, or just cowardly. If taking the plunge is something you won't do simply because it inconveniences you, does it count? Wondering if such a reason not to is really reason enough. People have made it through because they don't want to die. But you? You've made it through because you can't be bothered to take the time.

It's knowing that's not healthy. That people would be sad to see you go. That people would become a little more lost and a little less whole. And yet, that not being enough for the thoughts to stop.

It's not knowing how to ask the questions "how are you feeling" "what's wrong" and "are you okay?" Because what are you supposed to say? "I'm fighting off thoughts of how to end myself." "I'm sad because I have these thoughts that don't benefit anyone." Or "I'm sorry, I'm not really here. I'm watching everyone say goodbye and seeing them attend what is the happiest day of my life. I guess, it's not really the happiest day of my life because I would have to be there, but it's not a great day for them all. Can I feel bad for them when I'm the one who caused the bad day?"

It's shaking off those questions as best you can. And not making anyone aware of the sadness in your head.

The thoughts are a part of who I am. A day going by without such things in my head has never existed. 20 years old and inching along, 13 years old when I wanted to live in multiple world's of fiction, 8 years old when my mom died, 5 years old when I still couldn't pronounce my own name and I was so ashamed, 3 years old when I would cut my hair for disappointing myself, bite my nails when I was anxious, eat paper when I felt empty. All these stages in my life have been met and passed with these thoughts by my side, so loyally.

The only way to survive is to accept them as they are, ignore them the best I can, and live life as fully as I want to in each given moment.

I don't know if there will be a day when I'm able to do all that "normal" people my age do. I don't know if I'll ever want the same things they want. But I will continue to age. I will make the thoughts go away as quickly as I can and never, ever act. Because that is the rest of who I am.

Poem:

On some days
Days like today
Days where I didn't want to fight
Days when I started to see light
Before darkness crept back in
Down into my soul, in the blood under my skin

On those terrible, dreaded days
This is what keeps me afloat
Because who do I want to transfer the pain to
To my beautiful baby cousins who know nothing of the world?
To my brother and aunt who tried to raise me as their own little girl?
To my sisters with whom I've fought this battle, we three who lived it all?
To my friends who know dark gray, not endless black but wish I wouldn't fall?

No
Struggle as I might
I will bear the pain
Because I don't want to go
Six feet under
With a smile on my face
While a part of everyone else
Breaks off and fades away

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Jaded: Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Simms came home Sunday night. They told me the responsibilities I would have as their ward. They explained that I would be a representative of Peyton Empire. I reminded them that I'd be leaving at the end of the quarter. They said I could be active until then and we'll figure out from there.

"How do you feel about that, Lizzie?" Belle asks.

"Oh, I'm fine with that. I wish you asked me about the whole thing but of course I'll fulfill my responsibilities."

"It was the best time to announce it." Delilah says.

"You could have asked me if I wanted to. You had weeks to ask. You could have asked me that day since the media didn’t know you were making an announcement. I'll fulfill my responsibilities but I would have said no."

"But it's so good for you." Caleb says.

I look at him for a long moment.

"You're not getting it. I'm not looking to make a huge social difference. I want to take care of my family and live the best life I can. And frankly Caleb, I'm upset with you for telling me what to do as well."

"But…"

"I know. You were just giving me advice. But I wasn't looking for any."

"I think we all should get some sleep. Lizzie has school in the morning. I apologize on behalf of  all of us for hurting you." Arthur says, looking me in the eye. "Now, I'm not sure why that seemed like a good idea."

"I'll be okay. And I will be a good role model to students."

"Sleep tight, Lizzie. I really am sorry." he says, walking me to the door.

"Good night." I say, waving.

Am I going to get kicked out? I guess they can't kick Jenn and I out because that wouldn't look good. They're in the wrong. But I was rude.

Belle and Delilah apologized the next morning.

Caleb picked me up school and bought me ice cream. He apologized for talking down to me. And explained that he has a hard time communicating when he's passionate about something.

So the Simms and I are okay.

Caleb is passionate about me not dating Finn, though. But I can deal with that because it's none of his business. And I don't think it's going to happen.

----- ----- -----

"Lizzie?" Mr. Lawrence asks.

“Yes.” I say with a start.

“Can you please come up to the board and solve the problem?”

“Yes.”

I solve it and walk back to my seat.

“Impressive, Ms. Gent.”

“Thank you.”

I zone back out.

“How did you understand that formula?” Anne asks.

“Mr. Lawrence has been trying to teach it for three days now.” Another girl says.

“I’ve known it for a while. I read math textbooks.”

The two girls’ eyes widen.

“Why?” Anne asks.

“I get bored.” I shrug.

“Well, you’re a SOS so I guess we shouldn’t be surprised by your intelligence."

I know she doesn’t mean anything by SOS but I’m still not comfortable.

“I’m not that smart. I’ve just always been ahead.” I pause. “Where’s Finn?”

“Don’t you remember him asking to be excused?”

“No.”

“Mr. Lawrence dismissed him early so he could turn in his homework he forgot.”

“Ok. Thanks. I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Lizzie.” They both say.

I turn and almost walk into Mr. Lawrence.

“I’m sorry, excuse me.”

“It’s my fault, Ms. Gent. I shouldn’t have been standing here.”

I nod.

“Well, have a nice…”

“Ms. Gent, will you walk to the teachers’ wing with me?”

I look around for Finn.

“Sure.”

I text Finn that I’ll meet him at the car.

“Ms. Gent, how do you like the Academy?”

That question surprises me. I mean, it’s school but it’s also home no matter what state I’m in.

“I love the Academy. I love learning.” I say.

“That’s good. I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distracted this week. Did I actually manage to teach you the formula?”

I feel embarrassed that a teacher is pointing out my lack of attention. I feel bad that I didn’t learn it from him. He’s an unsure teacher and I’m not helping.

“I’m sorry. I learned it last summer when I read the book for this course.”

“Do you need to take this class, Ms. Gent?”

I stare at him.

“What is your goal for the future? What career are you preparing for? Or are you trying to be an accomplished young woman?”

An accomplished young woman was the school’s goal in 1635. I don’t want to become someone’s trophy wife.

“I don’t have a particular career in mind, Mr. Lawrence. I’m taking this class because it was recommended to give me my four classes for the year.”

“I’ve looked at your test scores, Ms. Gent. You got 85% on the senior test in tenth grade. You could take Latin, Math, and English out of your class schedule.”

“Then I wouldn’t have enough classes. I’m used to intense schooling. It’s nice to relax. My best friend just got 98% on the senior test as an eleventh grader. My score isn’t significant.”

“It is significant. My advice to you and your friend is not to let your talents go to waste.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Lawrence.” I say, as we turn the corner.

And I see Finn.

How is it he’s so attractive? I’ve known him forever and yet I’m drawn to him. It’s not fair.

“Eliza!” He says, smiling.

“Well, this is my stop. Ms. Gent, Mr. Campbell, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Finn holds the door open for him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I had to drop off my homework and get more for my other two classes. What are you doing here?”

Finn sounds upset. He was literally just smiling. Am I meant to understand him?

“Mr. Lawrence wanted to talk to me. I told you I’d meet you at the car.”

“Did you get my response?”

I check it.

Spirant Iustum: Stay at the classroom. I’ll be back soon.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Eliza, you can’t leave the building you’re in without me.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, annoyed.

“Someone could break into the school and hurt you.”

“What about Jenn?”

“Jennifer isn't the target. And she knows self-defense.”

“Fine. I can’t even go to the next building over, though? I’ve been trained in self-defense too. By you.”

“I know. But it's too much of a risk. I’m not just doing my job.”

I nod and get in the backseat.

Jenn opens my door.

“Hi Lizzie.” She says confused.

“You can have the front, Jenn. My bags don’t fit and I don’t feel like opening the trunk.”

“Bye, Nicole.”

“How was school?” I ask.

“It was good. Nicole, Mandy, and Elinor are really fun. Lizzie, you shouldn’t bring two bags to school. Messanger and tote bags are bad enough without carrying them both.”

“It evens me out.”

I'm not in the mood to repeat this conversation.

“How was your day?”

“Mr. Lawrence told me I didn’t need three of my classes.”

“I’d have so much more work to do at home.” Finn says.

“I’d help you with all of it.”

Not that he needs it.

“I’ll drop all the classes if you’ll make me lunch.” Finn says, smiling at me through the rearview mirror.

“No. You’d die from Lizzie’s weird concoctions.”

“I like her food.” Finn says, still looking at me.

“There’d be no one to take me home.”

“Right. We need to keep you safe.”

I glare at that and Finn stops smiling.

Jennifer talks the rest of the way home.

“Are you going to check the house?” She asks.

“No. Belle stayed home today. It’s good.” Fin replies.

I suppose that means there’s a guard in the house. I don’t like the extra security.

“Bye, Finn.” Jennifer says, running into the house.

Finn grabs my bags and walks up the steps.

“That’s not part of your job description.” I say, reaching for a bag.

“Eliza.” Finn says, exasperated.

“Yes.”

Finn puts my bags in the house.

“Eliza, I need you to be safe. It’s dangerous at the Academy because the most influential people’s children go there. That’s why I taught you some self-defense before. However, it’s even more dangerous now that you’re the Simms’ ward. I’m speaking as your friend, not bodyguard. I need you to be safe. I will do anything in my power to ensure that, even if you feel restricted.”

I hug him.

“I don’t feel restricted. I felt like a burden. But I understand now.”

“Good.” He says, pulling away. “Well, I have to go.”

He walks to the car. And awkwardly waves.

Why do we keep going in a circle of happy, angry, and awkward?

-----

“Would you like a snack, Lizzie?” Belle asks.

“No. Is it okay if I’m excused from dinner?”

Belle sits at the desk.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I have a migraine but it will pass.”

This is my third one since the benefit.

“I’m sorry. Arthur and I got a lot of those as teens. I think it’s hereditary.”

“That’s too bad.” I say, confused.

“Sorry. That doesn’t fit the conversation. Are you sure you don’t want anything? Water? Tea?”

“I’m sure. Thanks.”

“I’ll let you rest.”

“Wait, Belle.”

She turns so quick, my brain hurts registering it.

If I don’t ask her now, I might never.

“How do you deal with bodyguards? Isn’t it annoying or weird having someone who is paid to keep you company and protect you?”

“Well, bodyguards aren’t for company.” She states. “Oh, is this about Finn?”

I squim.

“Kind of. Is that bad?”

“I know Caleb told you what he thinks. He apologizes for that. But we’ve already apologized for everything that day.” She sits down. “I’m neutral. My opinion doesn’t matter. If you want him replaced, Stephan can go to school with you.”

“No.” I say too loud and wince.

Belle smiles.

“I don’t want that. I was just thinking about bodyguards and wondering why I was so stressed about it.”

“One of my siblings had the hardest time with it. They would rather stay home than be guarded.”

“Was that Delilah or Caleb?”

I think Arthur would be fine with it.

“She used to hide when it was time to leave.”

“Delilah then.”

Belle stares at me with wide eyes.

“Yes. Sorry I was picturing it. I was in my own world.”

“No problem. I do it all the time.”

“Is there anything else you want?”

“No. I’m good. Sorry again about dinner.”

“It’s okay. Jennifer will keep us entertained. I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks.”

I hear Belle sigh as she walks out.

----- ----- -----

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? I’m using you as a test subject.” Arthur says.

“But why? I’m not interesting.”

Arthur looks at me.

“First off, Lizzie, yes you are. Second, you don’t have to be interesting to be a test subject. You have to be human. Third, it doesn’t matter. You promised me the day because you didn’t dance with me at the benefit.”

“And five minutes is equal to 8 or more hours. What are we doing for that long anyway?”

“We’re testing a course. It’s called Childhood. We’re going to do all the things people miss about childhood.”

“But I don’t understand. Why would people come here more than once? If it’s a business venture how is it supposed to survive?”

“This will be the only location in the world. There are 7 billion people in the world. Even if 50 people come a day, it will take more than 350,000 years for everyone to come once. Shall we?”

“I guess there’s a reason they call you the mastermind.”

“Ha. They call me that because I’m the oldest. Delilah’s the number girl.”

“Has she always been that way?”

“No. She maintained the minimum at school. She didn’t use to care about the company.”

“So did she really wake up one day focused like they say?”

“Yeah. She asked to start working so she could be considered mature.”

“But she was barely 20. What made her want to start working in college?”

“Wow, you really did your research on us?”

“Wouldn’t you look up the people you were going to stay with?” He nods. “So why did she change her opinion?”

“Uh, just something happened. She was called a slacker all through school. She took two years off and traveled. She came home and announced her decision. Watch your step.” He says, offering his arm.

I take it even though I don’t need the support. It’s just a branch. I think he’s trying to change the subject.

“So where do you want to start?” I ask.

“No. No. Do you think I’m going to kidnap you for a day and then tell you what to do? We walked through the grounds to see where you want to start.”

“Let’s start with arts & crafts and see where that takes us.”

“Sounds good.”

----- ----- -----

“Okay, what inspired you to create this?”

We wore our handmade jewelry along with our dress up costumes to the sing-along movie theater. We’re currently sitting in the fort we built.

“I’ve been thinking of a girl I used to know. These are all things she couldn’t do.”

“Even the playground?” I ask surprised.

I thought every child went to the playground at least once.

“No. Well not as much as she would have liked to.”

“Oh. Why not? Was she sick?”

His mother died from cancer like mine so he might have visited the pediatric ward.

“No. She just didn’t leave her house much. She didn’t have any friends.” He says, staring off.

“That’s so sad. She must have been a lonely child.”

“Yeah.”

“How is she now?”

"I'm not sure. I hope to get to know her again."

I nod and read Jenn's text.

Jenn: Are you okay? I thought I heard you come in the room early this morning. Where were you last night?

Me: I went for a walk.

I did go for a walk around 1 am. Then I went to sleep in the ballroom in the yard. I woke myself up at 5, crying.

Jenn: Okay. Have a good day with Arthur. I have plans with Elinor.

Me: Have a good day as well.

Good thing Jenn's a heavy slepper. She believes me. She hasn't cried these last 3 weeks.

"So what do you want to do, Lizzie?"

"Like next in this course or in my life?"

Arthur laughs.

"I was asking about the course but you can answer both if you'd like."

"Well the course only has the playground and toys left and I don't feel like doing either of those so I'll answer about my life."

Arthur waits.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm applying to Northwestern in November. We'll see if I get in."

"You don't need to wait on conformation. Being that you are an SOS and Peyton ward, you'll be accepted to any school. You could even go to Harvard."

"Isn't that nepotism?" I ask, skeptical.

"You could call it an advantage or perk. Some may call it nepotism that my siblings and I had our choice as well. But in reality anyone who has good test scores from Alden Academy will get into a school and if needed receive a scholarship."

"I guess. I'd just feel weird riding on my title."

"Well, then use your talents."

"That's what Mr. Lawrence told me. But I'll just get any degree I can use."

I don't mention what I told Mr. Lawrence about my talents. I think Arthur will tell me not to be so humble or something.

"Edwin Lawrence? He's a nice kid." I laugh. "What?"

"It's simply funny that you called my teacher a kid."

"He was Caleb's roommate and in Delilah's grade. To me, he's a kid. To him, you're a kid. We've come full circle."

"Basically, you're old."

"Yes. I was born a while before you. Let's call me old even though I'm still in my thirties."

I frown and look apologetic.

"Not that face. Alright you're forgiven." He laughs and suddenly stops.

"Caleb lived on campus?"

Not the most subtle change of subject but I am curious. And Arthur seems uncomfortable.

"Yeah, for senior year. But anyway as Ed said you should use your talents and get a job you like."

"I'll think about it. That's why I was asking about Delilah. She's always rushing around but tells me to enjoy myself. She makes sure I have plans every day. Not that I mind, I just don't mind being at home either. I wonder if she's living vicarious though me. Does she like her job?"

Arthur thinks about it.

"Working was an abrupt change for her. And it had only been two years since our mom died. She stopped hanging out with her friends and tried to settle into work. She does like her job. It is demanding to be so involved with her share of the company. Delilah’s projects are doing the best out of all of us. But she lost connection with her friends. She can't call them up when she has time so she works through her off time. If you want to prove you don't need plans, why don't you show her what you like to do?"

"You sure? I feel like she doesn't like me."

"Lizzie, don't think that. She likes you. She just doesn't want to overwhelm you and like I said she doesn't take a break."

"Alright. I'll invite her to hang out."

"Well. The course is over. What did you think?"

"You promised at least 8 hours. It took 6. I want my money back."

"You didn't pay any money."

"It's a figure of speech."

"We didn't go to the playground or the toy section. Also there's a lot more movies. There's even old cartoons."

"You shouldn't encourage your patrons to watch more than two movies in a row. No one needs that much TV at one time. And they left their house to do things, not watch TV. While the adult sized playground is a good idea, parents don't miss the atmosphere of playgrounds because they still go with their kids. The toy room has a lot of advertised toys. It's cool to be able to use them without buying them but most adults will become disinterested quickly."

"So what do you suggest?"

"The toys need to be from the past. People want the toys from their childood mixed modern toys. Companies need to provide a selection of safe old toys. And you need to add more stops to the course. Do you remember rainy day games in school? Games you would play in the classroom?"

"Yes. Like Dots and such."

"Yeah, you could put that in with the toys or the cafe."

"Cafe? What cafe?"

"You can't have a 8 hour course and only feed people moive food once. If you don't want people leaving and possibly not coming back, you have to add a cafeteria. A cafeteria that serves finger foods, low tea and possibly high tea, cereal, and shaped food along with an adult menu would fit the theme."

"Why would people buy cereal at a cafe?"

"While they're doing things from childhood, they'll remember cereal that they forgot about. Sometimes you just want a bowl of your favorite cereal but then you forget to buy it. Or you do buy it but by the third bowl your craving is gone."

"Okay so desk games and cereal?"

"Wait what are the two things every child wants to do? Well every girl wants to do the second one."

"What?" Arthur asks confused.

"What's the age-old thing parents yell at their children for doing? It damages the house and gives mom a lot of work."

"Drawing on walks?" Arthur questions.

"Exactly. All the hallways should be a part of the course. 'Draw where you want, no one will care.' And last but not least, a crazy make up section but away from the dress up section so clothes don't get ruined."

"My sisters used to do that."

"I always wanted to."

I don't know why but it's a dream. Too bad I have to be the leader of my dorm. And no one else has initated it yet.

"Lizzie, I'm impressed. You can have a job at Peyton today if you'd like."

I smile.

"Thanks, Arthur. But no thank you. Not until I get my degree at least."

"Alright. I'll accept that for now. Let's get changed so we can leave."

Thursday, October 22, 2015

ARFID

Mental Health Awareness week was 12 days ago.

It's been a month of mental health for me. I started blogging again. I've been writing quotes and short recounts of pain. I went to a forum yesterday called "Breaking the Silence." It was nice to hear stories from others and to hear the enthusiasm for gaining understa5fnding on mental health.

I have come to accept two more disorders. I still have to talk to my doctors but I can pretty safely say I have Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder and Nightmare Disorder.

I avoid eating. I tell myself I can eat later. I restrict the foods I eat. I have about 50 safe foods so I'm better off than most people with the disorder. I have foods I have trouble looking at, even think about. My throat will start closing up and I get anxious.

But I make myself get food when I can. I force myself to eat just a little more. I'm trying to figure out what foods I can always eat. 100% safe foods. My physician told me not to go under 120. I don't know what's going to happen if I do. Right now that's 1 pound away. A 1 pound buffer, if you will. Can I keep from losing that safety net?

I was really worried about my weight from 6-9 y/o. I was in the 60s for about 2.5 years. I was terrified I'd never gain weight. That I would look gross. That I wouldn't grow correctly. That I wouldn't be average height or weight. I was used to being average.

I remember going shopping with my mom. I would choose foods that looked good to me. She'd ask about things I usually ate and I'd say no.

One memory from 2nd grade haunts me.

Mom: Purple Owl, get your backpack and come to the dining room.

Purple Owl looks at her backpack and sighs. School, again.

Purple Owl: Here I am. Do I have to go?

Mom: Yes. Here's your lunch.

Purple Owl takes the bag and opens it. Ew, a sandwich, fruit, and juice box.

Purple Owl: I don't want this.

Mom: Purple Owl, you need to eat.

Purple Owl: But I can't eat this.

Mom: Do you have your lunch ticket?

Purple Owl nods.

Mom: You can take the lunch and then you'll have two choices.

Purple Owl: But what if I don't want either?

Sisters: Mom, we're ready.

Mom, packing her bag: Okay girls. We'll be right there. Purple Owl, you have to eat something. We talked about this. You want to gain weight. You promised you'd eat lunch everyday.

Purple Owl's eyes light up.

Purple Owl: I want a Slim Fast.

Mom: They’re for weight loss or management. It's for adults. You don't need it.

Purple Owl: You've let me have some before. And if the serving size is for adults, it's different for children.

Mom: You promise to drink it?

Purple Owl bobs her head up and down.

Purple Owl: Yes. It's yummy.

Mom: And you're not taking it just to be like me?

Purple Owl shakes her head and entire body.

Purple Owl: No. It makes me hungry but it's also filling. I want to drink it.

Mom: Okay you can take it. Put the lunch bag in the fridge. Maybe you'll have it as a snack.

Purple Owl opens the pantry and chooses a chocolate Slim Fast. She makes room for it in her school bag. Purple Owl puts the lunch in the fridge. She wrinkles her nose. Not eating that today.

She skips to the living room and joins her family.

The lunch lady asked me three times if that's all I had for lunch. I think she thought my mom was neglectful, forcing me to diet, or unaware of dietary needs. She didn't know that my mom just wanted me to eat something, anything. She didn't know that I fought for the Slim Fast.

As for Nightmare Disorder, I thought everyone had nightmares, especially children. I blamed it on an overactive imagination and any intense movie or story. I didn't know that 1 to 3 bad dreams a night was a problem. I didn't know that remembering dreams for years was odd.

I have about 6 recurring dreams that started at some point in childhood or adolescence. A few years will go by between them. And each time they come back, it's like I'm welcoming an old friend. As I squeeze myself into a ball and wrap up in my blankets, I feel slightly comforted recalling the details. At least my dreams always have my back. They always want to visit.

Is that a normal way to relax from nightmares? Well it's my way. And it's not like I can go talk to someone about my bad dream in the middle of the night. Talk about my fear of going back to bed. Talk about my fear of what my brain is going to think up next.

I know about these disorders now. I'll work to get more information on them. I'll work to understand what they mean for me. And I can work with my doctors and others to find ways to face them head on. And that's a better place than I was in before.

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Worst Day of 2015 - 10/14/15

So far this year I've dislocated my knee, had a reaction to medication, dreamt I was assaulted, and had a major withdrawal.

But today was the worst day of the year.

So yesterday I slept in by accident. And then I laid in bed for more than 2 hours, not wanting to live, let alone think about school projects. I had an okay day, once again not accomplishing or eating all I wanted to. And then, I had to spend time with people. People I love but don't understand me. By the end of day, I was wondering if I'm the weirdest person on the planet or an alien. I'm different and a waste.

Anyway, I was up until 1am getting ready for school. Then my meds and night routine. And off to bed.

I woke up at 5:30 am to a hazy version of my repeat assault dream. I got down from bed and started my morning routine. Drinking water I hate to start my metabolism and prepare for the heat. Eating though I don't want to. Packing food I won't want to eat. Getting my bags ready for a school day and project I don't want to go through. Trying to find clothes that fit the temperature throughout the day and my body that's wasting itself away.

I got to the bus stop, 85% convinced today would be good. Had a nice enough conversation with a guy about what time the bus was coming. And started listening to my beautiful music. The bus came. I got on.

Three minutes into the ride, I realized I couldn't do it and closed my eyes. (My sleep aid was probably still kicking in.) Music, breathing, and waiting for my stop.

Off the bus now, I went across the street and put more money on my card. Trying not to think about my account amount. Sitting, waiting, and reminding myself to breath. When the bus finally came, I sat down and immediately closed my eyes. I got off soon enough, my knee hurting form the harsh stop.

Up to my classroom, not caring about stares for mouthing and gesturing along to my music. Smiling at my teacher and sitting in the classroom with 5 other people. Putting out water and tea I didn’t want to drink but would force myself to. My headphones stayed on. My music is my lifeline, my central gravity. I did some class reading. Decided to get my grades before class, like everyone else.

Class was good as usual. My teacher is wonderful. Only problem being students not majoring in child development complaining about the discussion topic. I shouldn't let it bother me but it does. (Like everything.)

Realized after class that I really should follow through with asking my 1st teacher for the last thing I needed in my 2nd class' first aid kit. "It's just borrowing." "She's a really nice person." "The fact that you failed to obtain this one thing isn't going to ruin her opinion of you." She didn't have it. Slightly stressed (about a project I didn't care about yesterday). But talking to her made me happy. She's a nice part of my day.

Off to my next class. Started a waffle sandwich because I hadn't eaten in 2.5 hours. Forced myself to eat half. Very worried about this 20/300 point project. (If you're going to do something, you have to do it right. Right?) And then, we don't even start with it. But that's alright. My teacher is fun to listen to and very informative. My tablemates are engaging. The grading waited until the end of class.

Then I realized I didn't plan how I was get home. Found 2 buses with the least walking. (Knee hurts, after all. Want to just cut it off. And wearing full length jeans in 90+ degree weather.) But it wasn't coming for 50 minutes. Waited on campus. Music. Continued reading. Started doing my hair to do something with my hands (even though I don't believe in doing hair in public. It's amazing what you get over when you're out of energy to care). Off campus to my bus stop with my hair 70% done. Waited 20 minutes mainly in the sun. Worried my phone may die. (40% scares me while I'm out of the house.)

1st bus was 15 minutes late. Rode listening to music trying not to panic about missing my 2nd bus. Trying to convince myself to get off at my stop and not ride until wherever. (After all, I had work.)

But the 2nd bus was also late. So it was okay. Waiting in the sun, drinking juice and chewing jum. (I'm developing an oral fixation.) I got on the bus, glad I put more money on my card than I had originally planned. Once on the bus, I realized I was sweating too much (minor withdrawal and overheating). I didn't have much left.

Got off the bus. Saw my house and kept my eye on it as I tried to just get inside. Upstairs, in house, took apart my bags, and took a nap.

Woke up 3 times from a horrible food guilt related nightmare. I was having trouble breathing. Couldn't tell if it was physical or mental but it didn't matter. I was late for work. Got dressed on the coolest thing I could find, got water, and left.

I walked down the street singing my favorite calming and reassuring song. Tried to relax, turned the corner and fought a panic attack. Can't have an attack with a child (#1 fear). "Put it off."

Both of us were a little off so it wasn't as enjoyable as usual. As I walked home I told myself to just get home. It didn't work, completely.

Crying on the street has always been another big fear. And today it was realized. Twice.

Straight to the bathroom, ignoring my sister. Cleaned up, calmed down, went out and apologized. She understood. We sat together for a moment. I got a cold pack for my head and went to bed to lay down and relax. Up 30 minutes later, picked out comfortable clothes that make me feel less disgusted with my body. Cold shower, repacked my food and bag. And out I went.

I took my hair out as I walked. I changed my mind about having it up. ("So did I waste that energy earlier, the precious calories?") I smiled at an older lady because smiles are contagious and she has earned a right to joy by surviving life so long. (Is it narcissistic to think of my own smile as a gem? It's only because people tell my it's cute.)

And at this point I realized I was overreacting. Yeah the week, month, year (lifetime) hasn't been going according to plan. But moping isn't going to help. Worrying about my lack of energy (calories and patience), possible panic attacks, and bouts of misery isn't going to delay any of it.

Both my charge and I were more conversational. I enjoyed the time.

I had dinner with friends. (My excitement had been going back and forth all day.) I had fun.

I came home and got to be truly alone for the first time today. Peacefully and unstressed alone, favorite music and my phone.

Once people came home, there were moments I was unhappy with the conversations. But I was ready. Finally.

So yes, it was the worst day of this year. Yes, a couple of my biggest fears were realized or close to it. And yes, the bad part of the day takes up most of the space but I'm here.

And at the moment, don't mind being alive. What more can I ask for?

If I can make it through today, I can make it through any day.


10/15/15 update: wasn't so neutral about being alive most of the day. Woke up continuously for 3 hours with nightmares. Weak all day, physically and emotionally. I was so sure I would faint at some point. A period, 400 calories, and lots of walking will do that to you. But today (well, Friday morning at 0:31), I'm kinda liking existing. Hope I wake up feeling the same.


Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Snapshot of Purple Owl - 9/28/15

1) I love myself the most. I hate myself the most.
2) I had two invisible identical sisters when I was under 13. I knew they weren't real and I only thought of them when I was bored. I invented "Pink" at 4 y/o. "Periwinkle" was created at 7 y/o because "Pink's" personality wasn't for me anymore. I gave up on them when I was 9 y/o and reading all the time. The only time we all interacted was when I remembered them at 13. I did a craft project with my mirror sisters and their input. I showed them my new room and my organization system. I disliked being the 5th child. I disliked being without a partner. But it was my first attempt at creating characters so they are a fond memory.
3) Disorders:
Chronic Depression
Insomnia
Generalized Anxiety, Panic and Social Anxiety
4) Self Diagnosed:
ARFID
Nightmare Disorder
Cireadian Rhythm Sleep-Wake Disorder (desired sleep times 2-5 am & 2-5 pm)
Separation Anxiety Disorder (I hate being away from people I've deemed "safe")
5) Poser, Rebel, Determined to be Different:
Names hurt. And I wish I knew how to be "common." ... Well, not really. But it would be easier.
6) I get attached to people, places, and objects incredibly too fast. (Give me all the nouns. Lol)
7) I'm still afraid of driving.
8) There's an employee at my local Jack in the Box (fave fast food) who knows I order chocolate sauce in my root beer float. And I don't know if that makes me ashamed or proud. For now, proud.
9) Strange habits:
Fries in milkshakes (common right?)
Hot cheetos in icing
Chips in yogurt
Meat/Tomato Sauce over Steamed Broccoli
Apple & Cashews (like a Candy Apple, yum)
I can't go anywhere without an undershirt.
I always put the heaviest bag on my left side.
10) Childish Habits:
Hot milk before bed
Two security blankets - 1 for home, 1 for public
New clothing becomes a comfort for weeks.
New outerwear becomes a security source for months.
11) I love watching adaptations and parodies to see how the writers adjust stories and scenarios to fit their needs.
12) I feel most comfortable with children.
13) I want to write for a living but I don't think I'll ever be confident enough for that. So for now, I want to work with children and write for myself.
14) I love music. My favorite songwriter is Martin Johnson. My favorite voices are Steve Perry, Arnel Pineda, Jon Bon Jovi, Adam Levine, Kim Jonghyun and Lee Jinki. I pretty much love every "boy band" from Beatles to Seventeen.
15) I believe that, no matter what, one's goal should be to make others' day better.
16) 9/27 & 9/29 are my least favorite days.
The 27th reminds me of what I haven't accomplished.
The 29th makes me paranoid that I won't accomplish anything in the coming year and be back to the 27th.
17) Therefore, I determine that it doesn't matter how I feel waking up on the 28th, I will be happy with myself by the end of the day. I spend the day doing as much as I can, of what I need to and want to do. I force myself to think positively all day.
18) This is my last year as a late adolescent.
19) I dislike getting close to people. When I feel our relationship becoming stronger, I get scared. I'm afraid that I won't be someone they want. That my people will dislike who I really am. And that they'll all change their minds.
20) I hate myself the most. I love myself the most.

*21. This year reinforced my belief that the hardest and best thing is to be yourself. It was difficult to see myself through the disorders, medication, injuries, and obstacles. But I did. The most clearly I saw was 9/27 & 9/28. 19 year old Purple Owl, you were beautiful, inside and out. Let's see where my 21st year takes me.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Returning to My World

I don't trust words.

I love words so much. I love the way they look. I love how they’re sung. And I love what they mean. When their definition is black and white.

But when they can easily be confused or ignored, I don't like them anymore. And depending on which words you put before or after each one, you can mean something else entirely.

I learned what basic anorexia means the other day. It means a long-term lack of appetite. I've always tied it to anorexia nervosa, the eating disorder. It was disturbing to see anorexia listed in connection to suicidal ideation when I didn't know it existed. I'd never been aware that a lack of appetite was something to be aware of or tell the doctor.

I'm trying to get myself to eat. But I think my medication is adding to the slight lack of appetite I've had for years. I'll talk to my physician and psychologist. I need to go back to therapy and work on my feelings about my body actually working against survival.

Speaking of my physician, I have to get a new one again. I have to meet someone and tell them all about myself. If this was two months ago, I wouldn't care. But right now, I don't want to do it. Which is why I have yet to make an appointment.

In addition to going through the process of meeting someone new, I have to explain my knee situation. How am I going to tell a stranger I've given up and want to get surgery? I've only told one person in real life. How am I supposed to tell someone who doesn't know or understand me and my circumstances?

But still I'll do it. I'll get surgery if the timing is right and I'll have a clean slate soon. With my knee, my lack of appetite, and my mental state. And maybe, maybe if I work extra hard a clean slate with words.

Soon I'll use them in their black and white, as well as gray, forms. I'll stop waiting for people to read between the lines. I'll start saying the words that are hard to say.

I'm not going to hope that more people understand me because I've been hoping for a decade. And it hurts. I'll just trust the words to carry my meaning to their recipient. Any misunderstanding that happens after that is not my fault.

P.S. Sorry the post is all over the place. I just had a lot I haven't been able to say.

Update: Since I originally wrote this, I found out I can continue going to my old physician. I left that part in because it displays my thought process and fears.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Jaded: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Did he just say…?" I trail off.

"Yeah. He did. Lizzie, are you okay?" Chloe asks.

The spotlight goes out and I sit down.

"I don't even know what that means. Like, why didn't they ask me? What do I do now?"

"I don't know. But I think it's something pretty big since every eligible young man is coming this way."

I look and see 15 guys coming toward me.

Where were all these guys before dinner?

"Hi, Elizabeth would you like to dance?"

"Ms. Gent dance with me."

I try to focus on the faces but there's too many voices.

"Lizzie, come on." Cameron says, pulling me up.

"I thought I told you to dance with Miranda."

"I was going to. But you looked overwhelmed. So I'll dance this song with you."

"Thank you."

"So what does one do as a ward?"

"No idea. I guess I'll find out."

He nods and we continue dancing.

My life isn't changing. I'm still me. I can deal with this.

'Ms. Gent, there's a photo shoot. Follow me." A woman says.

I smile at Cameron and he smiles back.

I see flashes ahead. We enter a conference room. I'm not speaking if someone asks me a question.

The woman motions me to stand between the Simm sisters and brothers. More flashes.

We do every combination possible. I take a picture with each sibling. Flash, flash, light and sound.

Just when I'm getting frustrated, someone asks a question.

"I'm sorry. This isn't an interview. We gave you the exclusive. Lizzie will answer questions at another time." Delilah says.

Lizzie will do nothing of the sort. But I take that as permission to leave.

I can't process any of this.

I enter the dance hall and look for Jenn. She's dancing with one of the guys I ran from.

I don't want to ruin her night. But I want to talk to someone familiar. Finn.

"Hello again, Ms. Gent." George says, putting his hand on my back.

No, this is wrong!

"Pretty big announcement. I'd like to discuss it while dancing."

"Look for gossip with someone who enjoys showy vacations and wasting away their semesters."

I walk away. I stop at my table and close my eyes for a moment.

I look up and see Finn. He smiles weakly. I walk across the dance floor.

“May I have this dance?” I ask.

Finn looks at Timothy and he nods.

“Of course.” He says taking my hand.

We begin waltzing and once again my feet know what to do. I look up from Finn’s suit and make eye contact with him. We hold eye contact until he looks away. The next time I look back, he’s staring at me again. The song changes and I pause.

“Just follow my lead, Eliza.” He whispers.

I nod and start dancing again.

I wonder if I should say something. People talk while they dance. Is this weird? Does Finn find this weird?

I look up and meet his beautiful brown eyes. I smile and forget what I was going to say.

“Thank you everyone for attending the benefit. Have a nice night.” The MC says.

I can hear people clapping but Finn and I keep dancing. The orchestra starts up again and we adjust our tempo. I look at Finn. Dancing with him is completely different than dancing with anyone else. I don’t feel like I have to pretend. Finn’s head turns and he meets my eye. I immediately look down.

The song changes. I still feel his eyes on me.

“Eliza?”

“Finn, why have you been staring at me?”

“Because I don’t want to look away. There’s no one I’d rather look at while dancing with you.”

“Why aren’t we talking?”

“Do we have to talk?” Finn asks confused. “It’s not like we just met.”

“I-I.”

The song ends.

“Excuse me.” I say, curtseying.

I walk away before he even bows in return.

“What a nice couple. They look good together.”

“They do but the ward and the help? And she snubbed Charles Moore.”

“But what was she before? She is a SOS after all.”

I think I found Macey’s future friends. I let myself out on the terrace.

“You know, this is a dangerous place to be without service.”

I turn around and see Timothy Campbell.

“So I’ve heard, Mr. Campbell but I have yet to see anything scary.”

“You’d be surprised how people react to what they call privileged brats.”

I sway and put a hand on the balcony. But not before Timothy Campbell supports my other arm.

“I’m fine, Mr. Campbell. I’m just a little light headed from the excitement.” I say, so he doesn’t notice how his words affected me.

I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

“Well, I’ll turn you over to your security then. Or did you mean to run out while he’s frozen on the dance floor?”

I look through the doors and see Finn on the edge of the dance floor staring at the terrace doors. Michelle makes her way to him.

“Mr. Campbell, I respect your law of conduct.”

“My law of conduct? I take it Finn has told you the rules.” I nod. “I’m glad it made an impact on you both. However, that’s not the reason I’m against your relationship progressing.”

There’s something else?

“Lizzie, it’s the last song.” Caleb says.

“Well Mr. Campbell, I’m off to dance the night away.”

Timothy Campbell almost smiles and then shakes his head.

“Remember what we spoke of.”

I nod and take Caleb’s arm.

“What is her story?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to find out.”

Caleb puts his other hand on my hand on his arm.

“You’re a good dancer. Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. I remember practicing the waltz with my mom. I guess I was taught the others at some point.”

“And you still remember?”

“I remember my mother in perfect clarity. It’s everything else that I’m missing.”

Caleb nods and we reach our place. The music starts.

“Speaking of your dance skills, you and your partner seemed to be in your own world.”

“Are you going to tell me the problems with dancing with him, too? We just met yesterday.”

“What can I say? Something makes me want to protect you.”

“You have two sisters to be brother to.”

“Yes, but they’re all grown up. They don’t need to be told where problems lie. Plus, Finn is like a brother to me.”

I sigh.

“Go ahead.”

“You didn’t just dance with him. You danced four songs and didn’t even stop when the music did. You didn’t spare anyone else a single glance. You both need to be making connections, not strengthening previous ones.”

“Don’t hold yourself back. Tell me all the places the problems lay.”

“Everyone’s eye is on you. You’re the company’s ward and living in my sisters’ house.”

“I didn’t ask to be. I'm already upset about that. Now I’m being told how to live my life as well?” I whisper, narrowing my eyes.

“No. I’m just informing you of your new place. Finn doesn’t like attention. Keep that in mind.”

The song ends.

“Thank you, Mr. Simms, for your insight.” I curtsy and he bows.

“Lizzie!” Jennifer latches on to me. “Good night, Caleb.”

Mr. Simms waves and turns.

“He didn’t seem himself.”

“You mean he doesn’t seem like the man you met 24 hours ago?”

“Lizzie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry Jenn. I’m just tired.”

And beyond annoyed.

“Me too.” Jenn yawns.

“Let’s get my baby to bed.” I say as attendants help us put on our coats.

“I could get used to this. Hey, don’t call me that.”

Finn smiles at me from her other side. I smile back and he looks away.

One of the valets opens the back seat door. There’s about 6 other valets. I don’t have to look at Timothy, Caleb, or any of our audience to know I’m supposed to sit in the back.

I rode here in the front.

Jenn falls asleep within 5 minutes. Finn shuts down every attempt I make at conversation and won’t even look me in the eye. I don’t think I’ve ever had a more frustrating night.

Finn walks us into the house. He checks the living room and our bedroom.

“All clear.” He says.

“Night, Finn.” Jenn says going up stairs.

“Well, the adults are supposed to be back by 2.”

“Oh, right. The kids were kicked out at 10. They have an after party.”

“Would you have even wanted to stay, Eliza?” He asks, smiling.

He finally looked at me!

“No. I don’t like large crowds. But I still had a good night.”

“Same here.”

He blinks and looks away.

“Well, I’ll be up until my dad comes home so text me if anything happens. Though, nothing should with the guards out front.”

“I will.” I promise anyway.

“I’ll see you Monday.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“I have homework and training. Stephan will be with you and Jenn. I thought I told you. It must have slipped my mind.”

“Okay, until Monday then.”

Finn smiles.

“Good night Eliza.” And he slips out the door.

I could have read while he did homework.

----- ----- -----

A knock sounds.

“Lizzie?”

“Yes.” I croak out.

The door opens.

“Would you like some brunch? Jenn ordered it for you.” Allison  says.

“Sure. Come in.”

Allison puts down the food.

“Where is Jenn? When I came back in the room this morning, she was gone.”

“I think she had plans with Nicole and some of the girls. Paul took them.”

“Okay.” I say, picking up my book.

“Are you hungry? Delilah said you’ve been up since 3.”

“Right. I talked to her when she came home.”

I slept from 11 to 2. I left my room so I wouldn’t disturb Jenn while I read. I took an hour nap at 6.

“It’s almost noon. Jenn said you’d want to eat breakfast for your first meal.”

“She’s right. Thanks Allison. Where are all the adults?”

“Misters Simms and Belle Simms had an emergency flight at 4. Delilah went to the office at 9.”

“Wait so I’m here alone?” I ask.

“Well the staff is here but yes, you are alone.”

I feel my headache coming back.

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

“Sorry, Lizzie. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Okay, bye.”

Allison smiles at me sadly and I’m hit with dejavu.

I start eating and pick my book back up.

“Hello, Ms. Gent.”

I look up.

“Hello. You must be Stephan.”

He nods.

“Have a seat.” I start cleaning up. “Right, I’m not allowed to clean. Time out, why are you here Stephan? I don’t need a bodyguard in the house?”

“Well…”

My phone rings.

“Sorry. Hold that thought. What’s up, Jenn?”

“Lizzie, turn on the news! They’re talking about last night's benefit.”

I turn channels. The estate is on screen. There’s about 20 reporters in front of the gate.

“Jenn. I’ll call you later. Be safe.” I say.

“Bye.”

The pictures change to the benefit venue. That’s followed by Mr. Arthur Simms announcing me as the ward. And it ends with a picture of Finn and I dancing. Finn is blurred out.

“As the first batch of Simms Orphan Scholars prepare to graduate, the Simms have announced a ward among them. There hasn’t been any information on what that means or how many more wards there will be. The ward, Elizabeth Gent, is currently ranked 6th out of the four girls’ academies. She is the 3rd highest SOS. And it seems like someone else may be benefiting from her wardship.”

I wait for them to say Finn’s name but they don’t.

“I can’t believe this! I didn’t want this. How can they do this without asking me?”

“Technically, you all became wards of them the moment you tested into the academy. You're just the only one with special mention.”

“How is Jenn going to get home?”

“Don’t worry. Her chauffeur Paul is also a bodyguard. He’ll figure it out.”

“Why did the Simms all leave? This is their business.”

“Well you’re the ward. It’s more about you.”

“What about Finn? How long until his name is in this? Not that they’re right but he’s going to hate this.”

“Timothy is working on it. He won’t let his son be connected to this.”

“How’s that going to work? Finn is well-known. Someone’s going to tell the media.”

“You’re forgetting the powers behind the Simms’ name. They own shares in most mass-media.”

“You know, you are surprising reassuring even though you clearly don’t want to talk.”

“Bodyguards aren’t supposed to talk. We are here to watch, protect, and advise.”

“Well can you advise me on the best way to get out of here?”

“Yes.”

I follow Stephan into an elevator. It takes us underground.

“Okay, choose.”

“Choose what?” I ask, as my eyes adjust.

“Choose a car.”

There are about 30 cars. They are of differing class levels and models.

I see the van Finn drives and choose the convertible next to it.

We get in and drive around the garage. We pass one exit and go to the next.

“What’s the difference?” I ask still in the tunnel. “And why are they so long?”

“One takes you to the drive around the house. That’s how Finn picks you up. The reporters would see that. This one lets out past estate grounds. It’s a secret.” Stephan states.

Finn would have made that a joke.

“There’s a secret tunnel to the garage?!”

“Yes.”

“Now I feel like they’re just showing off their wealth.”

“It wasn’t the children. It was the mother Simms. They say she became a reclusive toward the end of her life. She had this tunnel built and never went to public events in her final 12 years.”

“She probably just liked her privacy. I know I do.”

“I understand. I was simply relating what they say about her.”

I know but it bothered me. I’ve always loved learning about her. There are no pictures of her from her final years. Her last public picture was Delilah’s 5th grade graduation. There’s a lot of rumors but I don’t believe them.

The wind hits my face and I lean back. I’ll forget about life for a while.