Feeling A Bit…Odd

I have to say to all those people online who have given me support: thank you.

I needed to do that first because they have been so warm and supportive, and they could never understand how much it has touched me. I come online knowing that I have to write, because if I don’t, they might worry whether I am still here or not. Just being here…and they don’t even know me. They took the time to write because they thought that my life was worth something and they don’t even know me.

That’s beautiful.

So I have eaten loads in the last couple of days. Without purging. Like, the amount an obese person would eat in a week, that is how much. Anyway, I had the munchies so there wasn’t much anyone could do. I’m strangely blase’ about it. I had a bit of a panic attack last night, about food, that is, and so I took some laxatives…

I don’t regret taking them. I just don’t want to get addicted to them again. My body was so screwed up after that. Before, I would be having at least three laxatives every morning, and an average dosage throughout the day would be about…eight? Anyway, I was solidly abusing laxatives daily for about six months. There was a few times when I would take 20 in one go…or was it 40? I think I’ve done both, actually.

The whole thing was painful, unnecessary (they don’t make you thin), but slightly rewarding mentally. Until I actually changed tact and thought about the biology of what I was doing and how screwed up my body was from it.

As long as I don’t get addicted, I’ll be fine.

Talking of addiction, I have been feeling really weird since having that weed. I mean, I’ve smoked weed before, but this was something else. I think I was high for two days straight. I think my body got used to it or something, because since then, and it’s been about three days now, I have felt really…odd.

I’ve been really scarily honest with people, my anxiety about the truth is slightly gone, I’ve been wandering around laughing to myself, imagining the weirdest things, staring for hours, having really bad headaches (I never get headaches), and being really eerily calm…but then it twists and I feel really paranoid about everything because I know that something has messed my brain up…and I’m not thinking normally. I’m not being myself.

I don’t feel like myself, and I’m being too open and not caring. I went to the bathroom and when I was leaving it, I saw a disposable razor that no one had used. I picked it up and held it in my hand, intending to keep it for the next time I self – harm because (although I tend not to use them anymore) my other one is getting a bit horrible. Anyway, I walked straight out of the bathroom, it just hanging in my hand, and had a brief conversation with my mum. She knows that I don’t use disposables, but she probably made an excuse in her mind.

Then there was when my dad kept coming into my room this morning to talk to me, and I swear I was half asleep but with my arm on show. Either way, usually I would hide the razor in my trousers, or up my sleeve, and I NEVER let my arm out on show. No matter how conscious I am.

The thing is, my friend (one you’ve not heard about before) is a bit like this. It’s not about not caring, it’s about not even thinking about it. You don’t really care about your life enough to care about the reactions you get. Sometimes, I do things just to shock. Make life a little more interesting. Not that I don’t have enough to think about…but I still do it. I guess in a way it’s a way of me bringing people into my world. Giving them a window into my head.

I don’t know whether this strange behaviour and feelings is because I chose to commit suicide, or because of the weed. But although the things that I’m doing and feeling are quite in my normal boundaries, there is something not right there. I can’t pinpoint it, but it bothers me.