Judy2

lol. i hope this very sincere expression isn't all too odd, i hope there's some kind of therapist out there who can fix me. and who can fix that entire self-worth issue that i have with myself, which must be linked to all of this in one way or another. i do love my parents, too. i appreciate their support. mum can be sweet when we get along (quick reminder that a few weeks ago i knelt and wept in the forest "because i miss my mum who i love so so so much") i'm a bit brutal in expressing my hatred, but figured i could do it safely on here, because apparently there's no way around expressing it. (thinking parts work and ifs?)

i feel sadness looking over to the wall where i put up a picture of me, on holiday, with a parrot on my arm. looking skinny. 17 year old me. i understand you, i see you. i know you simply wanted to live and be. i know that you were, but that you were, struggling, because you had to. i don't judge you, i understand you. i understand that it was all so, so difficult, and there wasn't any other way. i don't think that picture is ugly, or that it needs to be hidden because i was sick in it. my mum would probably want to hide it, wouldn't like me putting up pictures of skinny me. mum only wants pictures of normal-weight me, because all the oppression and disease of my soul doesn't show as clearly there, because she doesn't want it there....because she wants me to be happy, as a mother does, and that's good and right. but at the same time, there's an element of denial on her part, wanting to wish away and ignore some very obvious discords and disharmonies that do exist, and that did exist back then. i like that picture with the parrot because it's so true, it reflects my truth, it reflects how i was all ALIVE, yet sick, because i had to be, because things weren't alright...and it would be a lie to pretend like they were.

i think i understand why i was starving myself and hurting myself all those years. i love life and i want to live, but having my parents near me, i was just so unwell, oppressed, i couldn't help myself. cause they didn't see me and didn't take me seriously and didn't care about the fact that their fighting, their moods, were hurting me. i'm sat here and observe their presence, and it's like knives cutting through my body. no wonder i started cutting....needed that bit of visual expression, if they wouldn't notice otherwise. and then i was the problem, i was the one who was told i should stop being sick....when really it was just a sick environment. and now i'm the one with all the diagnoses on paper, because i'm the one who's in the wrong here and i'm the one who is awkward and strange and "mentally ill" and who should stop making such a big deal out of everything that's not right.

they're exhausting, i swear.

"Oh God, i hate my parents. i love Life and i love my childhood memories and everything, i love food and how that connects to being alive, and to so many childhood memories. i love the physical space around my hometown, and all it contains, holistically, holographically. i love Life...its diverisity, its richness, its infinite expressions... but i hate my parents, i can't stand their presence."

binged. got scared, panicked. called the local psych ward with the intention to talk about my utterly weird, shameful, complicated, ridiculous life story. got told i should wait and call again later. cried. told mum i need a massage. cried and felt sad while she stroked my back. got amused about the situation, but still feeling desperation, and wondering if now is the time to tell her i have borderline. decided against it, for now. she just pretends it's the most normal thing ever that i left here 5 years ago, on the verge of death, then stayed away for 5 years, and now i'm back all of a sudden and acting funny (angry, sad, happy, scared) and so on. God only knows what i'm doing. so i disappeared here, 5 years ago, moved to a different city to gain weight and live, felt depressed and hated my body for 4 years, lost some weight, went to a clinic, got rediagnosed with anorexia, felt i needed to keep the weight off for the next treatment at the clinic, which is for bpd...got offered support for my ed, but refused....got kicked out for that reason, return after 5 years to the place i left because i was starving here and because my parents live here and it's so complicated here, and now i can't help but binge here and i'm scared because silly me now has no doctors or therapists to consult about what the hell i'm doing or why i'm doing it and if this is functional and if this will lead anywhere good. it does not feel good, eating uncontrollably. i don't want to gain weight too quickly...if i gain 20 pounds within 2 weeks i'll have another identity crisis and go crazy and have to hide my body and hate myself for another 5 years to round off that decade. i'm scared. i don't know what's going on. i don't know what i'm doing. i don't know why i'm this stupid and stubborn, why i always prefer to do the hardest bits without any support, without anyone even knowing what's going on with me. Home feels good, i like home. but i'm scared of what will happen to my body, how quickly it might change and everything...how that might just be a whole nother crisis i won't be able to cope with or escape from...

it's almost like my parents' presence is ruining that beautiful, personal, emotional experience of me coming Home they're intruding on it, on what's Mine, without even realising it. i generally dislike my parents' presence. how bad that my home, and what was beautiful about my childhood, is theirs, too. filled with all their clutter, all their stupid mannerisms, their noisy habits, their fighting, my mum's ugly body that's so just like mine.... aaah, slipping into those devaluation tendencies again. would be a lie to say i didn't feel this way....all i can do is be honest, and then see what to make of that, even if it makes me look like a horrible person, like a narcissistic bitch. my parents are hurting me, are intruding upon what's supposed to be mine, what's supposed to be beautiful and emotional, what's supposed to be my space. that's what it feels like. of course. and of course i knew that before i came....it's part of the reason i avoided this for so long. now all i can do is notice it, observe it, marvel at it neutrally and then see what i'll figure out, what to do about that. ... i hate my parents. everything that's beautiful about the world, all the milestones in my life - their presence is ruining it. my room is in their house....no wonder i didn't feel safe to eat here. this beautiful, beautiful city, with all its beautiful, beautiful places...is cursed by their presence in this area, their presence in my life, the way they intrude upon it. then mum tells me i'm bad, and mean, and wrong, and ugly....for expressing anger, for giving her the cold shoulder. you know why i do that? cause you're getting too close to me. you're getting way too close, you're touching me where i don't want to be touched....i want to be left alone with my own experiences, my own emotions, my own thoughts....don't you DARE intrude upon that! i'm complicated enough when left on my own, with all the blackness and whiteness of my own soul....i don't need you stirring that up any further, don't need you adding more black to my canvas. i want to be in this beautiful, beautiful city, in MY beautiful, beautiful Home...but i don't want you near me, can't stand you near me. Leave me alone! Please! and god my mum's so ugly. she can be very sweet and caring, but she can also be so so so ugly, and that's literally what i'm thinking when i look at you. also, so far she seems to be the person least empathetic of how huge of a deal it is to be returning home after a 5 years' absence.

i feel overwhelmed

went for a stroll this morning and to the supermarket. the roads are all very familiar and i've already encountered a few familiar faces as well. the supermarket seemed a lot smaller in terms of its proportions. i don't know if that's a side effect of having lived in the city for too long, or that food was very big and powerful in my head and i was a lot smaller back then... or if it's just the time that has passed. i suppose a big part of why i have avoided this place for so long is that for one, time and change and the fact that nothing's static, nothing can be controlled in terms of its essence, its true nature, its appearance - least of all, myself - seemed daunting to accept. the other part is that i was very scared of the dialectical nature of this place, and felt i couldn't handle or hold space for all the contrasting emotions, evaluations, and moods i would be facing here. that it's all very, very beautiful and very nostalgic, but enmeshed with that is conflict, stressful family life, my parents, my own emotional conflicts, worries about self-image that i keep wherever i go....oh well. i'm handling it, after all. turns out that inevitably, after all, i might be returning as that stronger, wiser woman i thought i couldn't be? i'm handling it, i understand all these things now. i understand that time keeps passing, the clock keeps turning, things keep changing, i am not static. and i understand that things can be black, white, colourful (with glitter) - all at once. tiny judy (i meant in terms of age, but i guess this also holds true for anorexic judy, now that i think about it) would have loved that insight, would have admired it - even though she hated how it all looked in practice. oh well, i smiled, walking along those same old roads this morning. it's good to be here, good to be back.

tidying up now....one of my favourite coping mechanisms:) feels good! also exactly what i did when i left here.

oh, wow....too beautiful, almost.

like, almost too many things i'm rediscovering. from my entire childhood and teenage years....woah...

feeling very, very distrustful and scared of this place, very sceptical. but it's also a beautiful place, it's also Home, filled with so many memories...so many objects and things i'm rediscovering. it's okay♡

what kind of physical space is this supposed to be, i can't stay here for long, this is not safe, this is surreal/too real i certainly can't stand my parents' presence for too long, they render everything imperfect, i know but also it's okay and i can take my time and let things cool down it's just a shock, in the beginning i'll get used to it and i'll certainly recognise the fields, tomorrow, and feel safe there. i know i will, they were my everything. it's just weird to have this space materialise in front of me and be in it, after 5 years. is it the real one, or just a fake, just a copy? how would i know the difference. how would i know this is real...this is so strange. and if this is real, it's weird, because it's no real centre either, nothing stable....aaaah... don't know how to describe it with words. i'll try and eat something soon, it'll calm my system, i guess. it's just a lot. and i don't care about anything else, i just want to know i'm safe. that's all i care about.

it feels illegal to be in this room. i'm scared of what'll happen here, and how real it will be...

can't even put it into words. this is crazy, i'm scared...

i think i wanted to keep it like a museum, after i left here weighing under 30kg. i just wanted to leave it as a sight, unintruded, as the world still kept turning around it. feels ilegal to break into that and re-insert a certain flow of life and time, rather than timelessness, back into it. time is always scary because it's a threat to any image of myself that i may have. i feel slightly dizzy. GOD this is a lot. it is! i'm scared, it's all so so much...i don't know where all of this is leading, it's insane, it's so much... so so much. infinity.

i feel very distrustful of my old room. my room! but it's not really mine, it doesn't feel like it anymore.

like...this is supposed to be it? this is supposed to be home, the real home, the real version of it, again, after all this time? physical space is just strange, always has been!

my room definitely seems quite strange. it all seems strange, it's all so weird, such a shock.

can i just say that walking into a home you haven't lived in in 5 years feels extremely trippy, strange, and foreign? the roads, i recognised. i know them all by heart. the road where my parents' house is felt a lot smaller than my memory of it, and so does the house itself. it's just trippy. and then we have my room. it's supposed to be my heart, my centre...it doesn't feel like that anymore. it'll be one hell of a funny process figuring out where the centre of my Universe is supposed to be now. if this is not it, and i'm estranged, everywhere. even where i know all the roads by heart. this is just so trippy. i look around and think, this is supposed to be it? that magical place i could only access by memory in the past 5 years, and this is supposed to be the real-life version? wouldn't be curious at all if some major dissociation started kicking now. everything is turning in my head. would be cool to realise the Universe has absolutely no centre after all, that it's all just groundless...not sure if we're getting there? anyway, another thought that popped up was "no, i can't stay here, not for too long" oh, i guess we'll see in the days to come. i'll stay and explore the area, walk all my old walking routes and visit some of my favourite places....they're all ever-so slightly distorted now. like i said they seem smaller. i'll stay, explore, and then figure out whats next.

going home. i'm happy and i'm looking forward to it i'm just a little sad that i have to be so worried and stressed about all sorts of things while going back... i wish it weren't so. but it is so....so i'll let those worries be if they want to be and try to make the best of it anyway, try to let them co-exist with the beauty of going Home...

and i'm weak. sometimes i'm too weak to be smarter than my thoughts, or to act in resistance to all my disordered thoughts, to endure and push through and act wisely even when they make me feel guilty and talk to me in such a mean tone...

i'm still mentally ill, still struggling with my self-worth, which is why i need the ed, which is why i am struggling in life and everything's a mess and i'm a mess. sad.

i guess my brain sort of thought it would make it easier to go back home now that i'm at least slightly underweight again. that that would make it some sort of beautiful full-circle moment. now i'm thinking it's kind of sad....that i'm going back home and basically nothing's changed and i'm STILL mentally ill, STILL my own greatest nemesis. i mean, sure, some things have changed a bit, i've evolved a bit, i'm not entirely back to square one, i'm at least a little wiser than i was before. but i'm still SO naive. and it's sad that i'm still mentally ill and still struggling so much in life. i wish it weren't so, i wish i could return in the spirit of a victory, rather than a defeat. that's on me. i could have just as easily returned while being at a healthy weight, and taught myself by that that i don't need an eating disorder to have permission to go home. oh well....