It’s rare for me to post twice in a day but I need to. I don’t know if I can do this any more.
I saw my therapist on yesterday and was sobbing because I am so tired of people, especially those close to me, judging me, not believing I am sick, expecting me to take some pills and suddenly be better, not helping me out, or making me feel guilty when I am unable to do things..
It started off with me being pissed off at my boyfriend for expecting me to do fucking everything. I don’t mind cooking and stuff when I’m well but when I hit a health dip all I expect is a bit of help or understanding in return. But no. Then I was talking to one of my closest friends and somehow the topic came up and I was venting and saying how my boyfriend doing this annoys me and how I really hate it when people think I’m making it up or call me lazy or whatever. So her response was something about her having to be diplomatic…I didn’t even need to read the rest. Basically she thinks it’s a load of crap too. I can’t talk to my close friend that lives nearby because she doesn’t get it at all. She’s been bitching to me about how fat she feels and how she’s doing everything to lose weight and she just doesn’t know what to do any more all whilst guzzling a milkshake or admitting she eats a whole bag of chips whilst watching a movie at night. Oh and she hates fruit and salad. Trying everything? At your wits end? Bitch, you don’t know what those words mean. Stop shoving your face full of fucking junk and you’ll lose weight. TADA! Not so hard really.
Then I weighed myself today because my clothes have been feeling a bit tight and the bloating has been making me feel humongous. And I weigh a lovely 56.5kg. The actual fuck. Now not only do I feel like a whale but I know I look like one too. Or rather that I must look so ‘healthy’ and I’m ‘getting better’ and yaaay. This and then I stuff a to cross bun and a doughnut in my face because screw not eating wheat. No one takes me seriously why the hell should I try so hard when I’m sick no matter what I do and no matter what I do no one believes me.
Last weekend I said to my mum I’d give her a pedicure with this awesome new nail polish of mine that she loves. I’ve been so utterly bushed this week that I just haven’t had the energy. However, if I say I’ll do something, I do it as soon as I feel well enough to. So tonight at a family supper, which I don’t want to eat because I’m a fucking whale and I feel sick as hell from that doughnut and my ovaries are twisting themselves in knots, she says oh I didn’t give her this pedicure. So I said yes but she knows how I’ve been feeling this week to which she replies, with a sigh, “yes.” and kind of does this eye roll thing. Well fuck me sideways…jump on the bandwagon of people who are making me feel guilty. This was it. My own mother whom I have always ALWAYS trusted to be the one person on this entire planet who is on my side…and I find out she is just like the rest. I am completely and utterly alone.
I am stressed as hell because I have next to now money after having medical bills coming out my ears for February and needing to have my car fixed. I have two digestive enzymes left, next to no food and I need to get my car polished because the colour is fading and that effects resale. I can’t even save for uni this month and all I have is R6500 when I need at least R30 000 by next year. This stress, plus the hormones of this Nuva Ring, and the pelvic pain and the horrible two weeks of fatigue and my boyfriend being a total dick and feeling so alone and tired and just wanting some TLC but feeling guilty because no one believes me and I have to carry on and now having put on that weight and feeling sick from eating…I just want to give in. I can’t do this any more. I don’t think I can carry on. I’m tired…just so utterly tired of fighting every single day. And for what? For whom? Certainly not for myself. You know that cheerful, beautiful girl with so much going for her that always ends up with cancer…let her live, let her be adored. Give me the cancer. Let it eat me from the inside out just like the IBS, the PCOS, the possible endometriosis, this fatigue and the aches and the dizziness and brain fog all eat me up inside except no one can see it and no one believes me.
I’m a lazy, horrible, selfish person. I’m a drama queen and a hypochondriac and I make it all up. I’m just depressed or anxious or ‘you’re lucky it’s not…”. I am so tired. Tomorrow I stop eating. I just do not have any more fight left in me. I’ve had enough.