Saturday, 07/12/03 - 5:23 pm.
Stay in bed from 9 am to 2 pm, crying, and in pain, both physical and emotional. It's what happened to me today. My period arrived.
I'd been alright for a month, perhaps partly because of 1. No breakdowns, no cutting, no tormenting memories and thoughts. It was about time, part of me says.
I cried for three hours (9 am to 12) until I fell asleep. The three kids slept over but I barely paid attention to them and viceversa. I've managed to piss Rebeca off a couple of times since yesterday. It's partly my fault, but she pissed me off first.
Mom talked about the possibility of taking me to a gynecologist, because the arrival of my period is tragically getting out of control. Sharp aches from (feet) knees to head, no hunger, deep thirst, etc. I think that's normal in me, as annoying it is, and I refuse to have someone between my legs under any circumstances.
The sole thought of that made me cry harder, and my eyes still hurt. I'm sure I've cried the tears I had denied I had this entire month...I hadn't cried like this probably since the last miserable days of high school.
I cut too, because the wrist seemed unusually tempting. That's dumb, but I liked the sight of the clean, white (almost invisible, with see-through veins) flesh...it was like a blank sheet of paper, waiting for you to start drawing on it. I didn't do a lot, because I'm not much a cutter. But it felt good, honestly.
I don't know exactly why I was crying. Aside from the hormones. I was crying over Denver, strangely enough. And because I felt abandoned. The kids were busy watching Tarzan & Jane (seriously, the Disney movies sequel thing MUST STOP), and I felt alone. But of course no one even took notice I was sick. Maybe it hurt me because I'd never do that to them, I'd be the first rushing in if one of them got sick. But what the hell, they're kids. Everything is "me first!" and stuff.
Mom would peek in here and there, but I ended up shutting the door so I could cry freely, without her worrying and thinking it was something really serious, the pain and the cramps. I don't cry over physical pain (I did, but when I was a child), and this one, though unbereable and a complete knock-out for me, wouldn't be the exception. I suppose I started remembering things, again. Remember when Denver hurt you by... or oh, and that day when this person...
Without going further, Carmen came yesterday to my house, "to say hi". But actually it was because she had to kill time while she picked up her mom, and there was "nothing better to do" (her exact words) than come see me.
Eventually, her mom called her and told her she didn't need to be picked up anymore, so Carmen said she was gonna get going and left. Just like that. I felt used, and I wished (still do) I'd never met her.
Yeah, ok, you get the point of the things that made me cry.
At least I've only had a glass of milk and two ice cream cones today. I'm not fat, and I try not to dwell too much on the "OMG, I'm so fat and ugly" thing, but I always appreciate not being hungry...or being so and not eating. It's not punishment either. Sometimes I think I deserve to starve, but it's over a very specific thing, on a very specific situation that doesn't last so long. I always end up eating because.....
Instead of having snacks between meals I drink a lot of water, and instead of purging I work out. The fat is glued to the body, you know. You will never get your fingers deep enough to rip it off, you need to burn it.
Burn, burn the witch.
After washing my face up with my own tears (tear after tear, one doesn't cry like that too often), fighting with God (He's a Good Guy, but frankly, He should consider giving away my fertility to someone who will appreciate it more than I do, and is willing to go through monthly cramps and pains to finally give birth to the potential Next Best Thing), hitting myself because of an "accident" and taking a second shower for feeling dirty....hi, I still feel miserable.
I called my dad to ask him to get band-aids. "For the children, just in case", but actually they're for me. This is totally unrelated, but I was going to a concert last night and it got called off. The night sucked, except for the McDonald's apple pie.
Today I want to die. I thought kids would keep from that unconditionally, but I was wrong. Nothing can beat my Thanatos. And I'm glad.