“Something Just Like This” 

** TRIGGER WARNING **

I slept relatively well last night, despite waking up twice.    Improved sleep is one added benefit of eating much less.  I had a vivid and long dream in which there was a war going on between 3 kingdoms over disputed and highly arable valley territory. I was a young princess.  I was trying to negotiate for peace.  Then I remember us all being evacuated from a burning castle, but I chose to stay and die as a martyr, but then I woke up (disoriented).

I tried to eat a salad for breakfast, but I could only manage to eat half of it and a cup of coffee.   I really can’t stand the sight of food anymore and I don’t even feel hungry, just lethargic.  I weighed myself yesterday and I’m still at 169lbs. I need to lose much more, as I still feel huge, disgusting, muscular and bloated. It goes to show that before, I was just eating out of sheer boredom. Now that eating is no longer a coping mechanism,  I am letting the rest of these ugly arm and shoulder muscles and my nasty stomach waste away and I can return to single digit clothing sizes.  If I have to start purging food, I’ll do that too, though I don’t eat enough to make that necessary.  

I vented to one of the support staff last night, but it didn’t little more than kill time.   I keep telling them that I don’t need help with living skills – I need help getting out in the community. I need internet access in my apartment more than anything.  I’ve been forcing myself out just to use the internet and that has been damaging on the days when I didn’t feel well enough to go out at all.

I don’t talk to E anymore. Part of me wants to thank her for pointing out my ugly muscles, but part of me hates her for triggering my eating disorder that I’d managed to overcome for several years since I stopped drinking.  I wish she hadn’t said anything, but then I’d still be 184lbs and blissfully unaware how disgusting my arms looked.  She hangs out with men anyway, men that live here and hate me. I don’t trust her.

As for today, I’m not sure whether to go to the clinic or the coffee shop.    I had s meltdown at the clinic yesterday because was getting overwhelmed with all the stuff going on in my life and receiving mail and not knowing what to do with it. I will probably go to the coffee shop first and read my book.

And is this sad, and pathetic or what? I look at the Craigslist personals, “missed connections” to see if anyone in Rochester noticed me in a good way.  I know it’s stupid,, but that’s how desperate I am.  But I also know that I cannot be in a relationship given my disdain for my body and fear of physical intimacy.  Asexual men are hard to find and many asexuals are aromantic, so we’d just be like friends / roommates.

My therapist tells me I need to establish a “safe space” before I start facing the outside world, but that is impossible until I get internet access in my apartment.    I’m afraid to sign up for Frontier as it’s a contract and I am transitioning from DHS cash assistance to SSD and that could take time and leave me with no income for a while.   Also, it’s $50 a month, which seems expensive.  I don’t need or want cable television.  Most of what I watch is on YouTube or Netflix.   But if I had internet, I could make this apartment my home and my safe place.   I’d only go out when I needed to and when I felt well enough. 

I don’t pay much attention to music anymore, but I love this song.   It’s the best thing Coldplay have done in 13 years, even though it’s a collaboration.   I wanted to hate it, but it grew on me quickly:

“She said, where’d you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
I’m not looking for somebody
With some superhuman gifts
Some superhero
Some fairytale bliss
Just something I can turn to
Somebody I can miss.”

I ended up at the coffee shop, despite the shitty rain that has been almost constant for almost a week.   

“ALONE”

** TRIGGER WARNING **

I feel completely marginalized from society and even from my own (transgender) community. The message I’m receiving loud and clear is hat I don’t belong on this earth. People don’t necessarily hate me…they just don’t care.

I thought the sense of loneliness and social isolation would dissipate when I left the motel, but it’s got worse. At least I had the internet there and didn’t need to go out when I didn’t feel well enough. I can’t be in my apartment because I’m “cut off”. It’s a place where I’m a danger to myself, if I linger there too long unless I’m sleeping.

I sat in the common room earlier and broke down in tears. I don’t know how long I was crying for, but there’s eye makeup all over my face. One of the residents came in,, but didn’t notice me and went ahead and stole food from the kitchen and left. I’m pretty sure he’s one of the residents that hate me.

I got tired of the pain, so I distracted myself for a while with a little body art. Don’t look at this if you’re likely to be triggered by an image of pretty low key and harness self-harm:

Making use of my ugly arms

Now I’ve obligated myself to have to go out again to publish this. I hate my fucking life.

I finished the rest of the apple I couldn’t finish this morning. That’s my food intake for the day. My huge bloated, muscular freak body doesn’t need any more feeding. I weighed myself earlier at the clinic and I’m down to 168lbs. I feel more tired and lightheaded than hungry. I did s few squats earlier, now that my surgery scars have healed sufficiently.

Goodnight…I hope you’re enjoying my slow deterioration.

Love,
The UGLY FUCK.

I’m utterly convinced that some people following my blog are doing so because they are enjoying seeing me suffer. I also want to know who the “anonymous” person who comments on some of my posts using several aliases actually is….friend, foe or just plain nosey?

Slowly fading away…

I missed an appointment with DHS because the letter went to wrong person. For one,  I’m scared they’ll stop my money and secondly, the thought of having to go back there is terrifying and is giving me nausea. Plus there’s the stress work setting up SSD and having to keep going there.  I don’t think people understand how much those places give me ridiculous amounts of anxiety for days before any appointment.  I’ve had enoogh of being made to go to these places, where I have to sit among dozens of people who are threats to me and deal with the noise and fear of misgendering and being treated like a criminal.   The waiting rooms of those places are as scary to me as school playgrounds were.   

I feel so tucking low and I don’t want to be around anyone, but I have no choice because I need to be online.  I can’t be in my “cut off” apartment and I can’t get internet in there until my income issues have been resolved with DHS / Social Security.  I am still in limbo….survival mode. One more bad experience will send me over the edge.

I’ve almost completely lost interest in food.  I couldn’t even finish the apple I had for breakfast this morning and I have no appetite.  I just feel physically and mentally worn out from worrying and being forced to be in the outside world when I’m not mentally well enough. I don’t care about food.  If they stop my benefits, I won’t be able to buy food or anything else anyway.  All I really need is diet soda to swallow my medication, coffee and water.  At least my ugly arm and shoulder muscles will waste away and I’m glad the food cravings have gone and have been replaced by tiredness and lethargy.

I just want to be left alone. Believe me when I say that I’ve given up as far as being a part of the human race is concerned. I’m going to tell E and everyone else to leave me alone.   Don’t talk to me and don’t look at me. By the time anyone realizes what I’m doing, it’ll be to late.   I can’t take this pain anymore.   I can’t take any more scares or exposure to the outside world.

This is my message to you all:

“I know you hate me and I know I’m repulsive to look at because I’m so ugly, but I hate myself a million times more than you hate me.”


A quick update (visit to Social Security)

My visit to Social Security wasn’t as painless as last time, despite having an entourage of care managers with me.  A guy high as fuck on whatever drug(s) he was on kept trying to hit on me, with cheeseburger in his mouth.  It scared me at the time, but it was actually quite funny.  We handed in the proof of my immigration status and left relatively quickly.   I made the mistake of forgetting to take my anti-anxiety meds, so I was a nervous wreck.

I asked about getting internet in my apartment, but I don’t think I’ll be able to afford Frontier.  They are the only company servicing the building and they want almost $50 a month. which is above my budget.  I’m saving money on food though due to my diet.  I may be able to afford it on that basis, but I really need it.  I don’t need a phone or cable television.

I feel somewhat weaker and more tired than usual, but the diet is working.  It’s an apple and a coffee for breakfast, salad for lunch and a bowl of bran flakes for dinner.  I have been drinking lots of water too.   I can’t imagine that I’m exceeding 350 calories daily, which won’t be enough for my body to convert anything to muscle and because I’m eating regularly, it shouldn’t slow down my metabolism.   The tiredness I feel may actually allow me to sleep better.

I have to leave in a bit to go back to my apartment.  I hope I don’t run into E or anyone else.  I might go to the coffee shop later and take my book with me just to be out of my room.  I wish I had a friend who could go with me to more places.