ipromisetobebetter

[ipromisetobebetter]

reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

[ipromisetobebetter]

tracer: gay rights! jack, but more tired: gay rights

[ipromisetobebetter]

fic | your mouth, and just one word

nsfw krtsk au where kuroo is a lingerie designer and tsukki is his model.

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[ipromisetobebetter]

10/20-2018

No one ever shuts the fuck up. I tried to red card like 4 times but the BHC didn’t know sooooo fuck me. I am apparently super vitamin D deficienct. Binged when I got out.

[ipromisetobebetter]

10/19-2018

Second day of PHP, down from 10 hrs to 5 hrs. Much more tolerable. Two of the girls just don’t. Shut. Up. Ever. At least the BHC was different today. I feel like I’m being watched like a child, still, and the smiles the staff gives me feel more pitying than anything else. I had pizza for dinner. Haven’t reinstalled MFP; that’s one win, I guess. I’m tired.

[ipromisetobebetter]

10/17-18, 2018

Covering day 1 of PHP and what would have been day 2 if I had actually gone!

Yesterday sucked ass. I dislike the british clinician. The whole group aspect for hours on end definitely doesn’t jive with my need for me-time—there is no off button. I was just constantly with people. I felt like a baby, and it was really demeaning. I deleted MFP. I had to eat lunch an hour after I had a snack. You have to clean your plate or you’ll have to drink Boost. Logical, yeah, but Boost is fucking gross so I tried to just eat whatever. I was kind of shocked by how much I hated it and how awful my stomache felt. After every meal, the group has to “process,” which really just consisted of us saying that we hated eating, we wanted to purge or pop a pill, and then some crying. I can’t even call the girls out on that shit because I felt the same way. Also, apparently I s*lf harm so that’s new...like, I don’t really see how hitting myself when I’m mad or scratching my arms when I’m nervous is terrible but go off doc. By the end of the day I was overwhelmed, done, my skin felt like it was on fire, I had cried a lot, and I just wanted to go be with my family. So I drove to their house, traumatized my sister with my tears, decided I wasn’t ready and would just stick to my outpatient team because fuuuuck that was the worst day of my adult life.

Today was less shitty. I called in the morning and said I didn’t want to continue. J called me and invited me to the mall. The individual therapist called and scheduled to talk with me at 1PM. Went to the mall with J, didn’t buy anything, went to get pizza. I had two slices and a couple bites of cheesecake. I was able to stop when I wanted to, not have to clean my plate. I dragged J with me to the appointment. The doctor suggested cutting down from 10 to 5 hours to try to adjust, assured me that they didn’t overstuff me and that my strong reaction was a sign that I needed to be there to break my bad habits. At the very least I agreed to go for a few more days and make sure MF would still see me if I quit PHP. Later, I asked J if she thought I was being defeatist, and she told me that she thinks I’m self sabotaging because I have no regard for my own health and fail to realize how I am sick. I don’t feel sick. I feel like a fat baby. She also said it’s like when D doesn’t take his bpd meds—he doesn’t feel sick, so he doesn’t do anything. And she’s right, y’know, I totally am being like him. And I do want to just dissolve. I do not care about my health.

Anyway I just want to be happy and play video games and go to Disney and stop being fat kthanksbye