I'm a responsible, alcoholic, mature, bulimic, wise, self harmer.

Leaving rehab on Thursday.

Cannot wait to be back in the world!!

Terrified of going completely off the rails and cutting myself to within an inch of my life (cut my right wrist last Tuesday - not terrible just steri-strip job but I am amassing quite a collection...).

I'm still drinking. I'm still having nightmares. I'm still bingeing-vomiting, BUT I'm suffused with hope for the future!! I think, and am confident, that at the very least I'll be leaving with all these life lessons under my belt. Have got to a point where I can 'sit with my feelinjgs'. Be they fullness, overwhelming rage, physical panic/fear, incomprehensible depression (i hate that word) - I can do it! It's uncomfortable and very bloody irritating... but it's ok! I DO come out the other side! I feel these things because I'm an emotive, short tempered, interested, loving, sad (pathetic and 'happy - sad'), wee chicken. And it's all going to be ok...

Scary. Mad, bad and sad. But so much more inner contentment and peace! Yes of course I still have worries, concerns and dreams about the past, I still would rather throw up my dinner (no matted how healthy) and spend my evenings playing tiddlywinks with razor blades. But... I cannot do that anoy more!

I've used up my quota of alcohol, food above the nec daily amount, swear words, indulgence in madness. I'm ready to just fucking get on with it!

urgh

what the fuck am i doing with myself.

i'm in rehab at great expense, drinking, bingeing and twatting my head/knuckles against walls when i feel shit.

i want to get out of here so i can re-examine my life at a healthier distance. buti'm bloody terrified of leaving as i don't know what i'll do to myself. I feel like all my adult knowledge and defences have been stripped away and i'm left eith my immature emotions in an adult body and world. in short, i feel like i'm fucked whatever way i turn.

Must dash, off Clay Pigeon Shooting in a mo...

Why wouldn't you shoot clay discs in your journey to sobreity and sanity?!

To be fair I'm willing to give anything a bash so can't be too critical.

Rubbish night sleep. Got confused between a memory and reality so ended up sliding into a horrific nightmare where I was being raped by two of the counsellors here (two I get on very well with), plus my boyfriend. The scenario was something that did take place when I was a kid, but replayed with different characters.

I was in a right old eggy state when i woke up. Couldn't get the images and feelings out of my head so sat and whacked my forehead against a wall for a spell. Still thinking of it, and getting lumpier and bumpier by the bash, then rocked out of my room to find the night staff. Had hysterics with him for a while until he gave me a sleeping pill and a brew and tucked me back in. He was a really nice chap.

Felt pants this morning, I don't want to live in a world where things like this happen! And there is undeniable and irrefutable proof that they can happen again!
But have chatted to a few people here and managed to get it all back in context and look at the positives.

Like clay pigeon shooting.

Still not looking forward to leaving but definitely on the up!

Whole family visiting tomorrow, really hope I can cover the bruise on my forehead! My parents are expecing me to be all fixed and don't want to dissapoint.

Big love x

Leaving on Tuesday

And I'm dreading it!

I love these crazy fuckers. It's just so bloody relaxing and comfortable getting up every day announcing that I can't cope with life, am an alcoholic bulimic anorexic, then running round indulging myself in every emotion and whim that crosses my mind...

Have been drinking like a fish and bingeing occasionally. Does anyone else do that in rehab?!

I feel like a worthless fucking cunt. Wasting my parents money, lying to everybody (except you beautiful people) and generally being a knobjockey... But I am talking about childhood stuff so am 'working through that' if nothing else.
Plus met some amazing people who I love and respect and have learnt A LOT from. This is definitely a turning point. I just don't think I'm ready yet to give up the eating and drinking control.

Sad mad times.

Boy came up today. We were supposed to be going to the wedding of a school friend of mine. Instead he's having lunch with me and the other loony tines, a counselling session with my therapists, a joint session with me and the therapists, then taking me shopping where we must monitor me the entire time. Finished up with dinner together when he must sensitively yet vigilently keep an eagle eye on my calorie/alcohol intake/expultion.

Great times.

REHAB IS SHIT

AND I WANT TO FUCLING LEAVE.

All we day is sit around all day and talk about our feelings, it's doing my nut in!!!
And I've put on weight.

Cunts.

Looking forward to jamming with the crazies..

..and getting away from the boy and the family. Albeit it only for a fortnight. I am very willing to be going as it feels like I'm finally handling the responsibility of my increasingly poor health and behaviour on to someone else.

I am mental! I have alcohol and razors hidden round the flat for when you're in bed. I spend the night throwing up hot cross buns because my desperate quest for skinnyness is coupled with an obsession with food and the need to eat. Under my funky fashionable bangles and braclets there are scars upon scars upon cigarette burns. I didn't really fall and bang my head, I spent the night banging my head purposley (sp?) purposefully against the wall to avoid thinking.

Everyone has accepted and in agreement with the fact I need to go into rehab, and they probably know about 40% of the above. Crumbs!

Big buttery crumb remnants around the kitchen as evidence of yet another drunken binge.

Oh Georgie, no wonder your legs touch at the top and you're getting a tummy and boobs. You silly silly fat fuck.

Does anyone know how you put one of those trigger warning things on your blog? Just realised I probably swear quite a lot and it might offend people.
As I keep saying to my boyfriend when he tries to row, I fight enough with the people in my head and my dirty far body to bother with aggro with anyone else.

He sat and silently cried at that, great times.

Mad, sad, bad times more like.

I'm wondering how they'll handle my eating at the clinic. Everyone is given prepared plates tailored for their problems. When I went on Friday they were having salmon and pesto spaghetti. I pointed out that there is now way on God's wacky world I would consume that and contemplate not vomiting but everyone just laughed.

And I'm hoping I'll have internet access so I can write on here. Keep a record of what everyone else's shit is! I hope there's a sex addict. A female, wouldn't want to listen to a man harping on about his promiscuity.

Bye for now xx

Hello Rehab!

So...

Parents drove me to the seaside today to view what is in essence a rehab place (although they keep referring to it as a 'retreat' - whatever you want to call it, I'm fucking nuts and you've finally noticed).
To cut the long story short (as I don't have much time), I am being admitted on Tuesday for two weeks! To be treated for eating, alcohol and self harm issues. May main aims are to come away and be able to not drink or binge/purge every day and cut the cutting for good. Would also really like to become properly anorexic but I kept that wee thought to myself.
It's... drum roll, £9000 for the 2 weeks.

Shit.

That puts the pressure on ever so slightly. And sort of drums it home just how far I've come down this ridiculously long rambling road to barking barneyville.

So, one more weekend of drinking, bingeing and causing bodily pain, and what a weekend it shall be! I intend to fully get my 9 grands worth. I shall be rocking to the coast on Tuesday reeking of booze, covered in vomit demanding immediate medical attention.
Or I'll sepnd it trying to convince my very conventional boyfriend that being an impulsive addictive individual isn't grounds for dumping.

No idea if anyone else is reading this twaddle, pleae let me know if you are.

Love Georgie.

Just back from docs. had been planning on going to work today but saw my Mum last night and she reckoned it's time I was treated as an in patient...

Relayed events of the last two weeks to the doc (lovely woman!) and the upshot is that I'll probably be admitted to a private clinic (hoping parents will pay, if not I'll have to use savings) on Monday. Being treated for eating, drinking and self harm issues.

Feel very fucking relieved to be honest!

The boy and Mum are both devestated. Feel very very fucking guilty. I just want to remove myself from the world for a bit. Fade into the background and not be for a while.

I'm happy to come back when I'm skinny and sane...

Didn't go to work today...

After convincing myself yesterday would be a better day, I gave in to the urge and binged massively late last night.
Was drunk as well so not sure how well I purged.

Plus I weighed myself at my Mum and Dad's yesterday and I've put on a stone over the last few months. I had been doing so well! Was nearly at target weight then I got all happy and relaxed - fucking idiot.
So not feeling very chirpy today. But have a plan...

Will tell the boy a but more about my eating issues, may admit to the nightly binges, maybe. And off to join the gym this afternoon. I want to be thin enough for people to question my sanity by August.