I’ve been feeling pretty shit all evening, and now, I just feel even worse. I finished work at 5pm, absolutely exhausted after my first 40+ day week since I was Ill, and binged. It wasn’t planned, it was one of those binges that comes about due to circumstance; there were two big pizzas in the freezer, the cheap and cheerful (but massively calorific) sort.
Because I was so tired, I decided to stick one in the oven. Unfortunately, I left it a little too long, so I ate what I could and split the rest between the dogs. If the pizza hadn’t been burnt it would have been ok, but it was, so without really thinking, I went back to the freezer, got the second pizza, cooked that and ate that too (okay this was undercooked but at least it was edible!)
After eating that I was desperate to purge. I sat on the sofa and forced myself to sit there and not move. I had been lazy and weak enough to binge, I wasn’t going to allow myself to take the easy option and purge. No, I was going to live with the consequences of my actions; I am going to get fatter.
I spent most of the evening catching up from the soaps I’ve missed this week (I’ve actually been out of the house every evening too!!) and procrastinating over all the things I have to do. You know when you get to that point that there are so many things to organise that you just don’t know where to start? ~ that’s where I was at. I have a 6.00am start tomorrow to go to a dog show so I’m not looking forward to that at all.
Dog showing used to be all that I lived for. Now my heart doesn’t feel like it is in it. In fact, my heart doesn’t really feel like it’s in anything any longer.
Moving on, I have had a few texts from the guy I went on a date with, throughout today. I genuinely don’t know what to do about this situation. After the date on Thursday, where he was very clingy, and tried to hold my hand at every opportunity, I have done a lot of thinking, and a lot of soul searching. For me to go on that date on Thursday, I had to make myself someone else. This might sound strange, and don’t panic, I’m not referring to a split personality, but I became a person whom I haven’t been for a while ~ Summer.
Summer is confident, sexy, and was an escort a few years back. She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. She doesn’t get nervous, and loves get body, and knows how to show it off. Shelley on the other hand, is none of these things. At the time when I was escorting, it was necessary for me to create this ‘persona’ to get me through appointments. It was almost like a twisted game of role play, it was all an act for me. God knows how much more of myself it would have destroyed if I had allowed it to become reality.
Anyway, my point is, I was terrified. I took almost half a packet of Valium just to get myself out of the door, into the car, and into summer mode. Why am I terrified? Why do I feel such terrible anxiety that I wonder if my stomach is about to cause itself to internally combust? Perhaps it is because I am out of practice. Perhaps I am afraid I am going to get hurt? I don’t know. I am not a naturally confident person. I am shy, and I find it difficult talking to new people. Add Borderline into the mix and you can see why I have problems.
Anyway, moving on to the point. This guy, Rich, wants to see me on Sunday. Unfortunately for me, last night I was having a ‘promiscuous’ night (like we do) and was being very flirty by text, naughty suggestions. These are promises I can no longer keep now that mood has passed and I have moved into the ‘I’m so fat and ugly why would anyone even want to touch me’ phase.
I feel a massive pressure of expectation, and I can’t give him what he wants. That is, if he hasn’t run a mile after he finds out the truth about me. Anyway, that is null and void, he isn’t going to get that chance as I am going to end it first.
Which moves me on to the whole point of this post and why I currently feel like driving to the Clifton Suspension Bridge, wrapping myself in adhesive lead weights and fatally free falling into the water below.
I asked someones advice on how I should tell him I didn’t want to see him again. Tonight, he has gone out for a few drinks, but he sent me this message;
Caveat: I’ve had a fair few ciders.
Why are you having a pants evening?
Also are we okay? Seeing as you’ve been silent all day x
They replied that if I carried on as I was, I was going to end up alone when I am old and grey. They didn’t realise that this is my biggest fear. The fear that I am unlovable. That the moment anyone gets too close I push them away. That I won’t allow myself the chance of happiness because I’m so sure I will fuck it up. Because I’m so sure I will hurt the people around me I believe it’s safer if I am on my own.
I feel like there is little point in continuing this silly little game we call living. What exactly is the point? People like me dont live, we’d just exist, making it from one day to the next, causing pain and mayhem wherever we go. We are the liabilities of society. Welcome to the world of the Borderline.