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mollygoat
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Name: molly
Country: Australia
Birthday: 10/31/1981
Gender: Female
Interests: i write a lot... im working on a novel right now... playing my guitar with my band... havent played anywhere YET... listening to music... obviously... its such an escape... and reading when things quiet down... which is quite rare
Expertise: i dont think im an expert at anything really... i guess if id try and pinpoint my best areas... then id say.... im pretty good at playing guitar... and photography...
Occupation: Advertising
Industry: Entertainment
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/5/2003
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| hi
after a couple months of hospitalization, im finally out, but not fully recovered. i have been set up at a recovery center place... live in patient so this will be my last post. for those of you who gave me glimpses of sunlight, thank you... it helped me. i thought dropping this last line to let you know i am alive and kickin is the least i could do. whenever i saw the walls dripping down to the floor i remembered that there were some ppl rooting for me... im half way to being well... the medication is helping so very much, and this time im going to trust the doctors when they tell me that i need those meds. i have to get well this time, and i will.
lots of love, Molly  | | |
| im going to see my doctor at 8:30 this morning... my stomac is in constant pain... it feels like a fork has slowly been scrapping away from the outside right through my skin to my insides and its poking my stomac and stabbing and twisting it... sleeping is hell... and i dont have enough money to get more sleeping pills... although i doubt they would stay down. water is hell to consume. and i know thats definitely not good. hydration is important. i think ill have to spend time in the hospital. home away from home. i wonder if theyll notice my new cuts. i hope they dont put me in the psych. ward when i get better, that place depresses me. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.... why does my life have to be shit? so many times i was told by countless psychologists that i was doing so well... that gaining the first 10 pounds is the toughest but after that the "psychological dependancy/beliefs of an eating disoder patient is 50% broken" thats what one doctor told me... i thought they knew what they were talking about... obviously not... why couldnt i be normal... | | |
| i want to die... i just want this life to be over with. im sick of sitting around and calling ppl that dont even care that i exist. it hurts to know that my best friend doesnt think it important enough to return an urgently left message to him when he gets it. i needed help and i had to pester his family a few times before hed come to the phone. he was sleeping and figured hed call me after he woke up. what, at 3 in the morning. sure i only sleep maybe an hour a night, but come on. it was an emergency. a necessity that i talk to him. or even better, see him. is it that much to ask that my best friend be there if i need him. im there for him when he needs me. fuck. ive dropped down to 98 lbs. the sad thing is i want to eat. i try to eat. but i just cant get myself to eat more then a few bites. and my body rejects that faster then i can taste it. i really dont want to die puking in my bathroom. am i dieing? is this what happens when your body is dieing? how can i fix it? obviously hospitals cant help or they would have already. should i go to my doctor? or should i just go to the emergencie room? | | |
| what day is it today? i have no fuckin clue... until i see it appear after i submit this. 28 new cuts... 18 on one leg, 10 on the other. i dont even remember doing it. i phased out of my mind, and when i snapped back in, my legs we covered in blood. but, i bandaged myself up. i havent cut since then, its been about 2 and a half weeks. i started taking the meds they gave me. i didnt think i needed them, but after the blackout, i think its for the best. im 21, only a few months away from 22. ive gotta get my shit together, i have to be an adult. i will get better, and with the meds, they say itll help me. i think im gonna believe them. | | |
| i was sitting in my small, white room. and i started to paint the walls with this bucket of paint i found in the garage. its not the best colour, but i prefer something other then white. white reminds me of hospitals. not because of the walls, because the walls had a slight tint on blue, which i noticed when i was talking to a doctor after i came out of my drug induced sleep. his coat was a white, almost too white, a blinding white that you have to squint at when you look at it. i remember the doctor asking me how i felt and why i was squinting. i looked at him, trying to open my eyes, and i i said, but i think i yelled it... id be fine if your coat wasnt so fuckin white... then doctor sighed, and i felt his warm breath on my face, and an odour, i which he had had a breath mint before he spoke to me, and he left. the white reminds me of the coats they wore. i think they wear them not only to stand out as a doctor, but also to remind everyone that they are superior to us since we "need" their help. i didnt need his fuckin help. i would have been fine with dieing on that day. anyhow, not i have slaches of colour across my walls, with drips of paint leaking out from the line, i like it much better, its a red colour, kind of a brick red, i guess. oh well, at least its not white... | | |
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