spidersecretgarden

[spidersecretgarden]

tw: ed

i was almost two months purge free

[spidersecretgarden]

i don’t want to be me anymore lol

[spidersecretgarden]

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

tw: mother

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ entry three

today i called my mother. there are days when i feel this need - almost like a habit - to call her. there would be no reason to do so as our conversations lack depth and are often monotonous. however as i was driving on the same road i've driven for years i saw myself call my mother. i find myself questioning why i still do this. years ago i would cry and beg god for a mother who loved me. who thought of me and missed me in my absence, but as seasons have changed i have accepted the mother i have. my father would sit me down throughout my childhood and explain how to have a relationship with my mother. i believe this was more so for his benefit as he was growing old of the numerous phone calls he would receive from me as i cried and screamed to him on what she did this time.

i was very young the first time i looked at my mother and realized she didn't like me. she would apologize for my existence to others or outright ignore i was even there most days. i never knew why but it angered me. i felt this pinch low in my stomach that would grow each time she would dismiss me until one day the pinch became all consuming and i felt my insides burning with fire. i screamed until my throat went dry and no sound came out. yet at the end all i was left with was this feeling of deep sorrow for her. i would think how hard it must be to never find someone to love you. to always be left behind. to never feel chosen. i had somewhere along the way picked up and adopted the guilt of what had been done to my mother, maybe it was forced into my hands or maybe i had discovered it myself. yet there i stood with bags of someone else's trauma tied to me. it didn't matter if she didn't love or choose me. nobody was there to hold my hurt and i was too busy trying to fix her so she could fix me.

[spidersecretgarden]

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

thought it would be funny to share some of these pics i took during depersonalization episodes (i have a photo album of these)

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

[spidersecretgarden]

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

tw: mentions of emotional abuse, ed, edmr therapy

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ entry two

back in april i started edmr therapy, which essentially in summary is therapy used for ptsd (among many other things). i was encouraged by my cognitive therapist to look into this style of therapy to help me in my healing journey as i have harbored trauma with me for many years. i began this therapy with an open mind and by the second session we began the actual edmr process.

~ spark note version of this therapy (can be skipped although i may make a longer post on my entire experience with this) : i essentially pick out 5-10 traumatic events for us to work on. for the session i'll obviously pick a singular event to focus on. she will ask me to explain the situation in as much or little detail as i deem necessary. we begin with me watching a dot go from side to side on the screen while i replay this memory in my head. after several minutes we stop and come back to the session, she asks me what i thought about or noticed. she will then pick out a certain element of what i said (i.e a feeling, moment, detail, etc) and tell me to focus on that. this continues until i reach a grading scale of 0/10. as i said there is so much more to this and i can totally make another post on my experience so far ~

while working on this i immediately decided to work on the four years i spent in an extremely abusive relationship. there was this one moment that lived with me for so long and i couldn't really pin down why. it wasn't nearly as painful as the other things i went through during that time or even in my life. however i knew i wanted to work on this memory. as we went through the edmr process for well over 40 minutes i got a point where i said i felt this overwhelming feeling that i took up too much space. in that moment, without using his words, he made me feel as thought not only was it my fault but i could have avoided it if i had been smaller. this is probably (and unfortunately) a very common feeling for people, the feeling of taking up too much room. this was manifested itself in my ed many times as a motivation to just be smaller.

now why am i bringing all of this up? if i am anything i am a fucking paradox. explain to me how i have done everything in my power to make myself smaller yet the minute i am in a room with my father i feel smaller than an atom and i am screaming inside of my mind to be heard or seen.

i have tried for so many years to rationalize or justify the actions done upon me by my parents yet every theory circles back to my parents love me but they do not like me. and i think they like hurting me even more. i am the quiet obedient child who sits, listens, and comforts during his fits of rage and anger. i do not speak out of turn, my tongue has permanent bite marks. so when i speak for the first time at a comment made in my direction, and i am met with being utterly mocked at i crumble to the smallest speck of dust and apologize for taking up room.

[spidersecretgarden]

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

baby spider; she did not deserve what happened to her

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

[spidersecretgarden]

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

tw: mention of family trauma, ed

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ entry one

i knew that coming back home would be difficult for me. this is of course the birth of a lot of my traumas, especially my ed. some context of my family (a brief overview) :

my mother taught me very young how to be critical of myself. i learned how to calorie count when i was around age 8/9 with her. she would teach me how to stand in the mirror and point out everything negative about myself. what i could fix, how it was in my power to reach my potential. she never told me that perfection was a goal that cannot be achieved.

my father was the first man who told me i was unloveable. he made sure i knew that i was not as pretty as the other girls and that i needed to make up for it in other ways, being smart, achieving goals, running. i would wake up every morning and run my three miles starting at age 12. he would time me each week to see if i was improving. i learned to not eat around others and if i did, i would be brutally interrogated as to why i thought it okay to have a snack or to eat when i felt i was hungry.

my step mother comes up in the dictionary when you search up "almond mom". she ended up going back to school to become a natural doctor with supplements and sorts. i was in middle school (ages 11-14) when she would start using me a guinea pig for certain "detoxes". i learned to fast up to 72 hours on just water and carrots by the time i was 12/13. i remember always having to start these new fasts near the beginning of the year because i would always be fasting and or detoxing when it was valentine's day. i would be so sad that i could never have any of the valentine's day treats i would receive.

my brother is the golden child. i do not blame my brother for anything of course and never have held any resentment towards him for the family dynamics my parents adopted. it kills me as we have gotten older and i see how he has developed an ed as well. his in the manifestation of gym culture. he calorie counts as i do and taught me all that i know of understanding my macros. i love him so dearly and i have cried for him at night when he first told me how he hated himself as a child and how bdd has dominated his mentality.

my sister is also seen as golden in their eyes. she developed an ed the same as i did growing up and has struggled with recovery the past few years. i dont have much to say on her as she is in a similar boat as me but its a little more complex. i might expand more on that later.

with that context its easier to understand my hesitations and fears of coming back home. i used to fear coming back home when i had gained more weight a few years back, as i knew ridicule would come and hurtful watchful eyes would judge me. however now that i have relapsed (something my family is aware of) i fear it even more. the encouragement i get from them (them does not include my brother or my sister in anyway only a reference to my parents) as they see me slowly kill myself.

[spidersecretgarden]

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

well i think it appropriate to begin with why i started this blog and how we have ended up here.....

i have always loved tumblr and have always found it my safe space compared to other social medias. when i started my main blog i was so happy when i actually found active mutuals whom i have grown to love and get to know. i can't imagine losing that as it has saved me in times of lows as of late. i have all of these thoughts that swirl around my brain at all hours of the day and have no where to put them down. yes i do journal but something about posting, even if only one person sees, makes it real to me. i know probably something i need to mention with my therapist on needing external validation and whatnot. i would never dream of causing hurt or triggers to anyone and i thought it would be very random and out of character if all of the sudden i started posting about dealing with an ed and or some of my heavy triggers and mental illness as my main blog is a more cleaned up version of me, albeit still messy as hell lol. and that brings us to this blog here. i want to be able to just write as i need (and yes not care about grammatical errors pls do not remind me that i study literature, i cannot be bothered with that on here). i hope you find a place here of safety.

xx spider

[spidersecretgarden]

you’ve found my secret journal 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

just as a preface (possible tw):

⤷ this is not a pro ana blog. i 100% support recovery and do not want to be the cause of anything negative. i need an outlet to post my thoughts while dealing with an active ed. i have many mutuals on my main blog who are younger and/or have posted of being triggered by the ana community on tumblr. this is my way of just having a place to let out my thoughts and not be a disturbance to others.

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here you will find a more honest version of spider as this will be used as my online diary

୨ৎ trauma talk

୨ৎ dealing with mental illness

୨ৎ yapping + longer (paragraph style) posts

୨ৎ fun things too!! (not all negative)

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my diagnosis:

୨ৎ dysthymia

୨ৎ anxiety

୨ৎ dissociation/depersonalization episodes from trauma

୨ৎ ednos

୨ৎ bdd (body dysmorphia disorder)

୨ৎ ocd

୨ৎ ptsd

୨ৎ chronic insomnia

୨ৎ hypo mania

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i ask that you please be kind as i am being very vulnerable on here and wish that you speak gently with me and others. i will keep my asks open if you have questions or want to say hi :)

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tags i will be using (will be updated with use) :

#spidersdiary