I Need Help.

We all do, really. But like most of you, I am not willing to take that step. I refuse. I try and tell myself that I'm going to beat this bulimic shit out of the park like Babe Ruth and end up like The Babe. Ya know, the pig? Right. It seems like I'm getting better but the fact of the matter is I'm just getting more and more use to the view. Bulimia is my coping mechanism. Bad day? Throw it up. Wash, rinse, swear next time I'll cope differently, and repeat.

School is shitty. (I'll pass yoga. One credit closer to an Associates.)
I'm poor and poor-ering. (I really wish I could blame this on new pumps rather than The Pumps.)
I think I kind of hate my mom. I need to get away but then it goes back to my second point and then my first.

There are so many "ways" that I am that I would like to change. I'm a believer in change. I am a believer that where there is a will there is a way. But that way would be so much shorter, easier and better if I could just get away from the lady who has conjured all these undesirable traits and is continually (albeit inadvertently) pressing the buttons. With one comment, one casual encounter, she can flip my mood. I feel so much tension in the air we are in the same vicinity. And by vicinity, I mean house.

These are the things that have recently taken a backseat to what I'm hoping is not a growing problem. In the past weeks I have a growing annoyance with my fingers and toes. It feels like some parasitic monster has gotten inside of me and is travelling via blood stream to the tips of my fingers and toes. Vacationing like my digits are the Florida Keys. It feels like they are trying to eat their way out, occasionally traveling up the coast. And by coast I mean up the outer side of my foot. From the minute I felt the first bite, I was hoping that it would be short lived. Still mutha fuckin munching, they are.

I couldn't tolerate it today. I went home after my first class... not helping the school situation. And then what did I do?! Cope-ish. VomNom's away! Not helping the fat situation nor my bank account since food costs money.  And it worked for that while when I was distracted with food and flushing. Now I am exhausted of vomming, feeling fatter than ever and the microscopic munchers are chomping away.

Did I mention I have Lupus? Stress is a huge trigger. And I am so trigged. School, money and the future. I don't know what I'm going to school for anymore. It feels like I will never get the hang of it. I am failing and hurts at my core. I kind of use these pains as a siren that I'm OVER-THE-MOON-AND-ON-PLANET-PLUTO-BACK-WHEN-IT-WAS-A-PLANET-STRESSED. It's school. It's fat. And life would be easier to just work. But when I was working I was miserable because it was going nowhere. Since I was a little girl I was always so sure that I would be educated and successful. I was also sure that I would eventually be beautiful, charming, stylish, and have an amazing svelte body. Bulimia was not ever in that dream.

What do I do?

Give up?

Keep going?

Neither seem to be a good option. I'm not a quitter. But I'm afraid that to keep going would be hurting me.  And then there is time. It's ticking. Father time is a workaholic, he hasn't had a day off ever.

...I'll just Publish Post now and not ramble on further and weigh ya down with my sadpants post.