I promise you I am not dead, nor have I forgotten about this blog. This blog is an important part of my life and is the most effective recount of my time with Justice and my battle with depression and self harm (and assorted other injuries) up to this point.
However, I have decided in recent weeks that it is time to move on and write in a new place. I don't know what writing in the new place will achieve, but I hope it achieves something good. CFJ will always be here for people to read, and I hope people can learn something from my experiences, both good and bad. If not, then I hope it has been an enlightening read over the years, that has been captivating and has taken you on an emotional rollercoaster ride.
Sometimes, I'm quite sure, I've left you all a bit worried and sad, perhaps even sick, and I am sorry, but as I have said a multitude of times, you chose to read. CFJ has been my learning space, my truthful space and also my space to hide. I have always enjoyed sharing my journey with my readers and I hope you will all follow me to my new home in the sky.
In an effort to lose any undesireable who may or may not be hanging around and reading what I'm writing I will not be disclosing the new site address. However, if you shoot me an email at: autiosblog@gmail.com I will gladly provide you with my site address - this goes for you too anonymous posters, your support and advice is wonderful and I hope you'll contact me to keep in touch - even if you have to use anonymous emails.
So, thank you all for following my journey and I sincerely hope you will all contact me in due time to continue to follow my journey.
Thank you again, for everything.
- CG
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Today's weight: 68kg
What will everyone think when I'm gone?
It's not what you're thinking. I'm just upset and lost and probably a little confused but I can't see the confusion clearly right now. I have so much to say and yet I can't seem to find the words for it.
I just wanted things to work out, but now I don't know if they will. What if they don't?
Some days I feel like no matter how hard I try, I'll never get anything right, I'll never be good enough. I'm never going to be that person I'd envisioned.
How can I be?
I'm too messed up. Too broken. Too confused. Too worried. Too scared. Too, I don't know, me?
Why?
- CG
What will everyone think when I'm gone?
It's not what you're thinking. I'm just upset and lost and probably a little confused but I can't see the confusion clearly right now. I have so much to say and yet I can't seem to find the words for it.
I just wanted things to work out, but now I don't know if they will. What if they don't?
Some days I feel like no matter how hard I try, I'll never get anything right, I'll never be good enough. I'm never going to be that person I'd envisioned.
How can I be?
I'm too messed up. Too broken. Too confused. Too worried. Too scared. Too, I don't know, me?
Why?
- CG
Monday, March 28, 2011
Family, go die.
Today's weight: 68.5kg
Is it to much to ask for a good day? Where people just let me be happy? Is it?
Apparently.
Because I'm a disappointment because my walls aren't lined with an array of awards for my mother to brag about. And that's really disappointing, naturally. How dare I not be her honour roll child who is perfect, happy and has a nice normal job at Safeway. How.Dare.I. And how dare I like to to be left alone! How dare I be moody. How dare I like privacy. How dare I have a fucking personality.
I don't even like them. They seem to make a sport of upsetting me. And then when I'm all upset and shitty and don't want to talk to them they go mental and tell me its all my fault. It's not my fault, so fuck off. I don't come home to be put down. It takes five minutes after a good morning at work to bring me back down. Between school and home life is just fine and dandy.
I'm obsessed with my weight, I cut, I'm depressed and I can't decide whether I'm angry or upset. What's the point of this? Is it to make me hate life? Because I hate life.
No amount of butterflies, people telling me they care, the pretence of care at home, or the pretence of normality is going to fix that.
Fuck.It.All.
- CG
Is it to much to ask for a good day? Where people just let me be happy? Is it?
Apparently.
Because I'm a disappointment because my walls aren't lined with an array of awards for my mother to brag about. And that's really disappointing, naturally. How dare I not be her honour roll child who is perfect, happy and has a nice normal job at Safeway. How.Dare.I. And how dare I like to to be left alone! How dare I be moody. How dare I like privacy. How dare I have a fucking personality.
I don't even like them. They seem to make a sport of upsetting me. And then when I'm all upset and shitty and don't want to talk to them they go mental and tell me its all my fault. It's not my fault, so fuck off. I don't come home to be put down. It takes five minutes after a good morning at work to bring me back down. Between school and home life is just fine and dandy.
I'm obsessed with my weight, I cut, I'm depressed and I can't decide whether I'm angry or upset. What's the point of this? Is it to make me hate life? Because I hate life.
No amount of butterflies, people telling me they care, the pretence of care at home, or the pretence of normality is going to fix that.
Fuck.It.All.
- CG
Thursday, March 24, 2011
FML
Today's weight: 69kg
She says I'm not a big med taker, and I'm not. But she doesn't understand. She doesn't understand at all. Every med I take is regulating my body and how it function. Regulating how it functions. I don't need anymore. I don't need anymore and I don't want anymore. They taste bad. They taste bad and they're screwing with my natural functions. I'm unpredictable. I'm unpredictable, wildly moody, but mostly I'm just sad. I'm just sad and it hangs over me and it's kicking my arse. It's kicking my arse and I can't stop it. I want to kick it, but how do I kick something that is intangible. It's all intangible and only drugs can fix it. I don't want drugs, they taste bad. How can it be good for me when it tastes so bad. It tastes so bad and I just want someone to talk to. Not to problem solve. Not to problem sole because I'm not ready. Not ready and too antisocial. I just want someone to listen and tell me I'm normal. Tell me I'm normal and I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't done anything wrong and I'm not doing anything wrong. You don't understand. You don't understand how I cope. You don't understand how I cope because it looks bad. It looks bad its taboo. It's taboo and emos do it. Emos do it but I'm not emo, I'm just confused. I'm just confused and sad. I'm sad because everything is wrong and nothings wants to go right. Nothing wants to go right because the universe hates me. The unierse hates me and I don't know why. I don't know why and I don't understand. I don't understand and I'm hurting. I;m hurting and I'm lost. I'm lost because no one can tell me why. Why have all these things happened and why they keep happening and why I wake up every morning and why I keep trying. I keep trying because I haven't got the guts to end it. I haven't got the guts to end it and I'm harbouring too much pride. Harbouring too much pride so I won't ask for help. Not asking for help because I'm not convinced I need it. Not convinced I need it but knowing deep down I do. Deep down I do but I don't want someone to help, I want someone to listen. Someone to listen because she doesn't understand. She doesn't understand how I'm not a big med taker. She just knows. She just knows but she won't listen. She won't listen, she'll try to understand and problem solve. I don't want to be problem solves, I just want someone to listen.
- CG
Ps. I killed George
She says I'm not a big med taker, and I'm not. But she doesn't understand. She doesn't understand at all. Every med I take is regulating my body and how it function. Regulating how it functions. I don't need anymore. I don't need anymore and I don't want anymore. They taste bad. They taste bad and they're screwing with my natural functions. I'm unpredictable. I'm unpredictable, wildly moody, but mostly I'm just sad. I'm just sad and it hangs over me and it's kicking my arse. It's kicking my arse and I can't stop it. I want to kick it, but how do I kick something that is intangible. It's all intangible and only drugs can fix it. I don't want drugs, they taste bad. How can it be good for me when it tastes so bad. It tastes so bad and I just want someone to talk to. Not to problem solve. Not to problem sole because I'm not ready. Not ready and too antisocial. I just want someone to listen and tell me I'm normal. Tell me I'm normal and I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't done anything wrong and I'm not doing anything wrong. You don't understand. You don't understand how I cope. You don't understand how I cope because it looks bad. It looks bad its taboo. It's taboo and emos do it. Emos do it but I'm not emo, I'm just confused. I'm just confused and sad. I'm sad because everything is wrong and nothings wants to go right. Nothing wants to go right because the universe hates me. The unierse hates me and I don't know why. I don't know why and I don't understand. I don't understand and I'm hurting. I;m hurting and I'm lost. I'm lost because no one can tell me why. Why have all these things happened and why they keep happening and why I wake up every morning and why I keep trying. I keep trying because I haven't got the guts to end it. I haven't got the guts to end it and I'm harbouring too much pride. Harbouring too much pride so I won't ask for help. Not asking for help because I'm not convinced I need it. Not convinced I need it but knowing deep down I do. Deep down I do but I don't want someone to help, I want someone to listen. Someone to listen because she doesn't understand. She doesn't understand how I'm not a big med taker. She just knows. She just knows but she won't listen. She won't listen, she'll try to understand and problem solve. I don't want to be problem solves, I just want someone to listen.
- CG
Ps. I killed George
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
That awkward moment where the teacher has to ban the use of the phrase "animal porn"
Today's weight: 70kg
Not happy about this. Not happy about this. Not happy about this at all. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK etc etc etc.
And I really, really want to cut. It's like the thought is just sitting there, in my mind, and I'm thinking "do I, don't I, do I, don't I" and I don't know. I really want to do it. And then I don't want it. And then I really, really want it.
So I drew George. George is my butterfly and he sits on my forearm, where I cut. If I cut, I kill George, and I don't want it to come to that, but I don't know!
I guess it shows the George is doing his job if I'm experiencing this indecision.
I really like George!
Actually, the whole point of posting tonight was to write a list of all the things that are wrong with me, so here goes...
1. My left achilles tendon has tendonitis
2. My left ACL is strained
3. My left patella tendon has tendonitis
4. My right patella tendon has tendonitis
5. My right wrist possibly has tendonitis and most probably RSI
6. My right elbow has tennis elbow and a hypersensitive nerve
7. I have acne that varies in its horrendousness
8. One of my poisons [meds, but poisons is such a better name for them] causes me to be short of breath, which means when going up or down flights of stairs or removing elastoplast from a horse's hoof, which essentially makes me puff
9. I had PCOS, now I don't and now just have weirdo hormones
10. I have a soft heart murmur
11. I have a slow right ventricle - it's action is delayed
12. I have major depression
13. I have an anxiety disorder
14. I have low to non-existent self esteem
15. I obsess over my weight
16. I self harm
And there you have it. I'm feeling a bit confused about everything. Who am I? Where am I going? What am I going to do with myself? What if I screw everything up really badly? Why am I scared? Should I be scared. It goes on, and on and on, and I'm sad and tired and over it and I just want things to be nice and happy and simple, so I don't have to worry and stress and freak out and cry and obsess.
I really think George is going to die.
But I don't want him to.
I don't even know what to do anymore. What am I supposed to do? I don't want to deal with it anymore. I hate the cards I've been dealt with, I want a redraw. I'm asking so many questions and receiving so little answers. I know that most, if not all, of these questions are difficult, if not impossible to answer, but if they're so hard to answer then how do you cope? How do you go on? How do you right the wrongs when you don't know what they are and no one else knows either?
What kind of reality am I living in?
I look at that list, and I just think, why am I doing this to myself?
Why?
- CG
Not happy about this. Not happy about this. Not happy about this at all. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK etc etc etc.
And I really, really want to cut. It's like the thought is just sitting there, in my mind, and I'm thinking "do I, don't I, do I, don't I" and I don't know. I really want to do it. And then I don't want it. And then I really, really want it.
So I drew George. George is my butterfly and he sits on my forearm, where I cut. If I cut, I kill George, and I don't want it to come to that, but I don't know!
I guess it shows the George is doing his job if I'm experiencing this indecision.
I really like George!
Actually, the whole point of posting tonight was to write a list of all the things that are wrong with me, so here goes...
1. My left achilles tendon has tendonitis
2. My left ACL is strained
3. My left patella tendon has tendonitis
4. My right patella tendon has tendonitis
5. My right wrist possibly has tendonitis and most probably RSI
6. My right elbow has tennis elbow and a hypersensitive nerve
7. I have acne that varies in its horrendousness
8. One of my poisons [meds, but poisons is such a better name for them] causes me to be short of breath, which means when going up or down flights of stairs or removing elastoplast from a horse's hoof, which essentially makes me puff
9. I had PCOS, now I don't and now just have weirdo hormones
10. I have a soft heart murmur
11. I have a slow right ventricle - it's action is delayed
12. I have major depression
13. I have an anxiety disorder
14. I have low to non-existent self esteem
15. I obsess over my weight
16. I self harm
And there you have it. I'm feeling a bit confused about everything. Who am I? Where am I going? What am I going to do with myself? What if I screw everything up really badly? Why am I scared? Should I be scared. It goes on, and on and on, and I'm sad and tired and over it and I just want things to be nice and happy and simple, so I don't have to worry and stress and freak out and cry and obsess.
I really think George is going to die.
But I don't want him to.
I don't even know what to do anymore. What am I supposed to do? I don't want to deal with it anymore. I hate the cards I've been dealt with, I want a redraw. I'm asking so many questions and receiving so little answers. I know that most, if not all, of these questions are difficult, if not impossible to answer, but if they're so hard to answer then how do you cope? How do you go on? How do you right the wrongs when you don't know what they are and no one else knows either?
What kind of reality am I living in?
I look at that list, and I just think, why am I doing this to myself?
Why?
- CG
Saturday, March 19, 2011
So I totally Forgot about Doco Night on 7Mate and Now I've missed It
Today's weight: 69.5kg
As I was standing on the scales today I realised that posting my weight on this blog is only feeding my obsession. I also realised that this probably wouldn't change how I feel about myself. So I continued to stand on the scales and berate myself for weighing so much. I realise I'm not fat, I really do. I'm just worried about about weighing more than 70kg. Is that so irrational?
But, I definitely did forget about doco night and I definitely missed an interesting air crash investigation and I'm very disappointed! However, I got to watch a ship sink and now there's something about the Universe and space travel, so all is not lost. Ah, yes it is. Dad just put the cricket on. [I thought about mentioning the death of my brain cells, but then I remembered that I actually like cricket, so it would be misleading to write that]
So I'm feeling pretty blah tonight. But I have some news. I am two days clean of cuts. Now I am fairly sure I've just jinxed myself, but we'll see. Point is, two days.... So yay? I dunno. I'm not feeling yay about it all. It's not even that I went out of my way to stop, I just went to do it and thought "Why do I do this again?" There's this whole long list of reasons that I feel justify my behaviour [and do justify it indeed depending on whom you talk to] but nothing on that list seemed relevant and I felt like I was doing it out of habit, it was a routine. And if it's simply a routine then what is the value of continuing it?
I don't know whether my mood has evened out, or I've just slept a lot more than I needed to and am thus more prepared to deal with things. Actually, I don't know that my moods have evened out much at all. I'm still particularly snappy with people. Say the wrong thing and you shall die [a horribly slow and painful death in my head].
I think that'll do for tonight. I'm getting a touch distracted.
- CG
As I was standing on the scales today I realised that posting my weight on this blog is only feeding my obsession. I also realised that this probably wouldn't change how I feel about myself. So I continued to stand on the scales and berate myself for weighing so much. I realise I'm not fat, I really do. I'm just worried about about weighing more than 70kg. Is that so irrational?
But, I definitely did forget about doco night and I definitely missed an interesting air crash investigation and I'm very disappointed! However, I got to watch a ship sink and now there's something about the Universe and space travel, so all is not lost. Ah, yes it is. Dad just put the cricket on. [I thought about mentioning the death of my brain cells, but then I remembered that I actually like cricket, so it would be misleading to write that]
So I'm feeling pretty blah tonight. But I have some news. I am two days clean of cuts. Now I am fairly sure I've just jinxed myself, but we'll see. Point is, two days.... So yay? I dunno. I'm not feeling yay about it all. It's not even that I went out of my way to stop, I just went to do it and thought "Why do I do this again?" There's this whole long list of reasons that I feel justify my behaviour [and do justify it indeed depending on whom you talk to] but nothing on that list seemed relevant and I felt like I was doing it out of habit, it was a routine. And if it's simply a routine then what is the value of continuing it?
I don't know whether my mood has evened out, or I've just slept a lot more than I needed to and am thus more prepared to deal with things. Actually, I don't know that my moods have evened out much at all. I'm still particularly snappy with people. Say the wrong thing and you shall die [a horribly slow and painful death in my head].
I think that'll do for tonight. I'm getting a touch distracted.
- CG
Friday, March 18, 2011
Blah Blah Blah Blah Fuck
Today's Weight: 70kg
So yesterday I went to see a cardiologist.
I know what you're thinking - "Aren't you a little young for that?" And yes, yes I am. Even the doctor said so. But I learnt some interesting things about myself yesterday. I have a soft heart murmur. Yep, believe it. I'm not sure I can right now but I guess I kind of have to. And, my right ventricle is also slower than my left. Sometimes people are born with a slower ventricle, but by age five it has usually corrected itself. Of course mine didn't. Of course.
But the murmur is quite the revelation is it not? I get that its pretty harmless to me but of course my heart is defective.
Of course.
Why would I get to be normal? Huh. Why?
So now I have to do all these tests and I'm just not happy. So many questions, so little answers. Because you know, they've "never seen anything" like me. FML. Like seriously. I hate my life so much. So much.
I don't even know what to do.
Why can't things just work like they're meant to?
Why?
What did I do wrong?
Who hates me?
Is it the universe?
What did I do!?
I hate my life. I hate it. I don't know why I'm living anymore. I really don't. It's not fun. It's not happy. It's painful and sad. Depression, anxiety, whatever other shit they've labelled me with over the years, it's all kicking my arse. I can't win.
I'm not even sure I want to anymore. What's the point in fighting this losing battle any longer?
- CG
So yesterday I went to see a cardiologist.
I know what you're thinking - "Aren't you a little young for that?" And yes, yes I am. Even the doctor said so. But I learnt some interesting things about myself yesterday. I have a soft heart murmur. Yep, believe it. I'm not sure I can right now but I guess I kind of have to. And, my right ventricle is also slower than my left. Sometimes people are born with a slower ventricle, but by age five it has usually corrected itself. Of course mine didn't. Of course.
But the murmur is quite the revelation is it not? I get that its pretty harmless to me but of course my heart is defective.
Of course.
Why would I get to be normal? Huh. Why?
So now I have to do all these tests and I'm just not happy. So many questions, so little answers. Because you know, they've "never seen anything" like me. FML. Like seriously. I hate my life so much. So much.
I don't even know what to do.
Why can't things just work like they're meant to?
Why?
What did I do wrong?
Who hates me?
Is it the universe?
What did I do!?
I hate my life. I hate it. I don't know why I'm living anymore. I really don't. It's not fun. It's not happy. It's painful and sad. Depression, anxiety, whatever other shit they've labelled me with over the years, it's all kicking my arse. I can't win.
I'm not even sure I want to anymore. What's the point in fighting this losing battle any longer?
- CG
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