Fuck it, I'll just say it: I'm horrendously depressed. I spent the entire day crying, eating, crying, eating and then crying some more. The good news is I finally managed to go through those books, at least enough of them to amass 2,500 words of quotes.
The bad news is that I'm fat, spotty, borderline considering going back on antidepressants. It took me so fucking long to come off them that going back on the stuff is the last thing I want to do, and I want to try to wait this out to see if there's an alternative solution which doesn't involve entering the Sertraline Spiral for the 3rd time in 2 years. But, admitting I've heavily considered re-medicating myself over these past few days is the only way to accurately sum up just how awful it's been.
I weighed in at 171.6 this afternoon when I woke up (yes, you read that correctly, afternoon). I've been picking my face out of anxiety and I look a complete mess. It seems I can only stay afloat emotionally for a night or two, before it all catches up with me again and I end up back in the place I was 10 days ago: wishing that she'd call, to check I'm okay, and wounded that she hasn't; simultaneously, livid at everything she's done, and wishing I could just be unborn from how terrible this feels, and binge-eating carbs in front of Netflix.
Binge-eating, face-picking, crying, not being able to concentrate: it's all anger turned inwards. In fact it was my mum, and then L.T. who originally enlightened me by telling me virtually all of my depression was anger turned inwards. I know that the only way to move on from this is to get this anger out of my system so I can concentrate on my work, because I refuse to let someone ruin my chances like this. At the same time, what outlet do I possibly have for my anger? And how can I get it out productively? My mum suggested I write a long letter or email, just to let it out, but I don't want to have to voluntarily contact L ever again. She's hurt me too much. I was made additionally angry by the fact that today I learnt she's been trying to go through my sister, texting her and asking how I am. She also sent the most stupid fucking message saying she figured I was finding life "so much easier" without her around. Why can't she just write to me directly? To even dare to write that my life has been anything remotely resembling "easy" since last week is the biggest injustice out. This has been one of the hardest times I've had to go through in my entire university experience, and I'm STILL going through it, WITHOUT her. I can't even go into detail about how upset and mad this makes me, honestly. And I've never felt so abandoned in my life. She's a coward, she won't accept responsibility for a thing she's done. I've told my sister how unhappy I am, but it doesn't matter to an extent what information she chooses to pass onto L when L's primary mission is to remain blameless. If my sister tells L the truth, which is that I've been suicidally depressed and dysfunctional, seriously considering medication again for the first time in six months, and unable to work, L will find ways to convince herself it's not her problem. As someone who historically buckles under pressure and emotionally detaches automatically in response to any kind of perceived threat, L would take this as further incentive not to reach out. If my sister remains vague on the information she chooses to transfer, L can continue to eschew responsibility and escape the reality of what she's done by denying herself the ability to imagine a worst-case scenario. Equally, if my sister only scratches the surface in presenting an image of me as merely sad, rather than devastated, L can remain ignorant and keep lying to herself that it's not as bad as it really is.
More than anything, I think it's loathsome of her to text my sister, and not me. On one hand, learning this news was fortunate for me: it only served to re-confirm how puerile her argumentation is. And re-confirm that she's a child. A child who can't grasp anything real.
Tomorrow, there will be cleaning, more crying, and probably pizza. But after Tuesday, it's going to be ten straight days of restricting, (hopefully) in the form of a juice/coffee/soup fast, and non-stop, OCD-level dissertation work. I will go into town every day to get lunch in the form of either a green juice or iced coffee, and I will stock up on cup-a-soups and the occasional ramen. I will vow not to weigh myself until after those 10 days are up. I will vow to be an automaton freak until the end of the dissertation, on the 15 May. Then I will weigh myself, gather my courage, and start to mend myself somehow. And apply for post-graduate jobs. Hopefully whilst a little thinner, braver, and bolder than before.
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