Let them eat cake

This will likely include content that some of you may find challenging & uncomfortable; i do not actively condone any type of self-harming behavior nor do i intend to glorify it here. i will not tolerate pro-ED/self-harm BS. i'm over 30 years old. this shit ain't cute.

i'm not living your life. take what you need, and leave the rest. DM me if you have any questions.

this is the sideblog of @thecagedbird to be clear: i do NOT accept pro-ED/self-harming behavior whatsoever nor tolerate interaction w/ such individuals. this means you if you post

thinspo/meanspo

pro-ana/pro-ED tips & tricks

CW/GW, etc

i hate what i have done to myself, my life, in the last five to thirty-five years. the amount of times i've had the opportunity to reset, been privileged to be saved by some combination of parental support, however controlling, and treatment across levels of care, and time and time again i fall short. i dig myself deeper into the ground screaming for someone to listen without pathologizing, support my dreams without telling me i'm crazy or gaslighting me when i claim pain.

on one hand i know i am not being smart with my money. but i do not have the capability to plan ahead. i never though i'd live this long and certainly continue to feel burdened by my body. never given the opportunity to be autonomous, to learn from my mistakes, never taught basic skills most adults my age seemingly possess.

on the other hand, spotify notified me my favorite band would be playing a concert here. i booked a train. i booked an airbnb. i struggled through another week of work, this one particularly painful as i prepared to submit a rebuttal against my former employer for wrongful termination, a lawsuit i perhaps should not bother to pursue. plus my therapist was out of town for the last week and a half. but as i arrived to my seat at the concert last night, i felt myself become momentarily alive again. and today, exploring the city, fully in self, simultaneously grieving and trying desperately to live in the present...i feel so so hopeless, lost and alone. i reached out to friends who live in the city, no one got back to me to hang out. my philadelphia friends are equally artificial, only ever wanting to drink or fuck or promising to get together without following through, pretending to be supportive without ever checking in.

i have more to say but am so exhausted, literally and figuratively. i am so spent. i feel used up and broken. i want help but even the thought of seeking it out paralyzes me in a post-traumatic stress response. no matter which way i turn, all i feel is fear and all i want to do is escape.

part of me really wants to go to HLOC because i want the pressure taken off of me, i need help. but i don't even know how i could swing it, how i could afford it, how i could justify it.

___________

i had a good appointment with my psychiatrist last week, except he said he's leaving the practice/country altogether. he did prescribe me my preferred medication for alcohol cravings, though I have mixed feelings about full-term sobriety; i had hoped starting this would at least allow me to maintain abstinent from alcohol enough to focus on nutritional intake, physiological and neurocognitive stability, job applications, volunteer work, finances, and a few legal matters I'm involved in.

got into a bit of a binge drinking situation over the weekend before handing in the paper prescription to the pharmacy-turns out, its on backorder at all CVS pharmacies. so much for medicated assisted treatment.

i reached out to a friend who i thought i'd hit it off with. hadn't heard from him in a while. he wrote back he basically doesn't want to be with me and thinks i'm a drunk and that i'm hiding something.

sure, what could possibly go wrong.