Titles are lame

That super awesome moment when an accidental lapse turns into an intentional relapse. Oops. lol no. It's not an oops anymore. It's me being a dumbass because well I am just being dumb.
My accidental lapse happened because I was dealing with my grandma being in the hospital and having to watch my great grandma who was close to dying. The stress of all that made it very hard to eat. When I did eat, I felt like I was going to throw up which does not help when also having purging urges. Then when I realized I was losing weight, I was like "yeah, let's keep it up" because that is clearly the smart thing to do.
I knew I hadn't fully conquered my eating disorder (lol yeah ok) but I was not aware that it was still as controlling as it is. It's been rearing its head a lot more lately. It started before Thanksgiving. I think that was when my great grandma really started to decline. That's also around the time I found out about my uncle being an idiot. I thought I had it under control. Clearly not as I'm now purposely not eating which is dumber than dumb because almost passing out while driving is a great idea. No. My sister was in the car with me. That would have been fun to explain.
I need to force myself to eat but I really just don't want to. The longer you go without eating, the easier it gets  not to and the harder it gets to actually eat.
This is when I need to focus on why I need to eat. I need the fuel for my body. I need energy to watch my nephew because passing out while carrying him up the stairs would be fun to explain as well. I need to be alert when driving. I can't really think of why else I need to eat. Food, who needs it? (There is a ton of sarcasm in this post)
I need to get my shit together because I can't really afford for things to fall apart. I don't even know why I'm posting this. I don't think anyone even reads this anymore and it's been months since I last posted. I just don't feel like my recovery tumblr is the right place for it and my main tumblr is no longer disorder related. So I post it here where it is likely to never be read but oh who cares? Not like any of you can tell me anything I don't already know.
Also I forgot to mention this earlier, my great grandma passed away on Saturday. Her death is making it even harder to eat. no that's just an excuse but hey won't it be awesome when i go into therapy for the first time in 3 weeks and my therapist goes "wow, you look great" because obviously she will say that.
Hey brain. It's time to stop being disordered. I'm done with that.
I was going to say something else, but this isn't the best post for it so another post shall be made later.

I did it :)

(I do apologize for the length)
Even though I had some doubts about getting my tattoo, I got it done. I was really nervous (ok, ok, I was scared out of my mind) but I got it done. It is so ironic how the very quote I was getting tattooed, helped get me through getting the tattoo.
It took longer to get the design of the tattoo figured out than to actually get the tattoo. The longer it took to get the design right, the more anxious I got. I was full on crying before I even got in the chair. I must say that even though I've wanted this particular tattoo (I wanted some lame stuff when I was younger) for several months, I had never actually pictured myself in the tattoo parlor sitting in that chair getting it done. It was really scary. My aunt (the one who took me) was supportive and was able to help me get what I wanted across to the guy doing my tattoo. I felt so bad because I made him redo his drawing like four times and I thought he was mad at me. My aunt did freak me out a little when she kept telling me that it was okay that I was making him redraw the design since this would be on me permanently. Looking back (and even then) it was funny how I was so worried about it being permanent. I had this tattoo planned for months. The scars that I was going to be covering had been made in an impulsive moment. It was just silly.
Getting the tattoo hurt like a bitch. Not even going to lie. That was also funny to me because I kept telling myself "oh you used to hurt yourself. you used to cut. this shouldn't hurt." but thinking about it now I have to realize that while I did cut in my past, I haven't cut in over a year. The pain isn't familiar anymore. I was very glad I took Lumpy with me. I squeezed him so tight and drenched him in tears and even some snot. I refused to look in the direction of my arm while getting it done. I was afraid I would freak out if I saw my arm before it was done or if I saw the tattoo gun. Half of the time my eyes were closed so it didn't really matter. When the guy was done and I saw my arm, I was so glad I got it done. All the doubts I had (even while actually getting the tattoo) went away. I knew I had made the right decision in getting it.
Having to wait the 6 hours to take off the bandage was kind of torturous because I just really wanted to see it. The quick glimpse at the shop wasn't enough. When I went to actually remove the bandage, I freaked out. I got all scared and was doubtful. I refused to turn my arm over to look at my tattoo for a little bit. I was glad when I finally turned my arm over. It looked great. I did freak out at first though because there was a bulge over one of my deeper scars and I thought something was wrong. The swelling has gone down so it was fine, but I just wasn't sure and I was/am super paranoid about something going wrong.
I have gotten so much positive feedback about this tattoo. It was probably the best thing I've ever done. Here is the magical picture you all have been waiting for:

I absolutely love this tattoo. I am so glad I got it.
My birthday was yesterday and that went well. I got mostly money which I have planned for putting towards a keyboard (a piano) and the Once Upon A Time season one DVD set. My sister also bought me a small canvas and acrylic paints! I'm very excited about that. Now to figure out what to paint. I had IHOP for dinner and then for dessert, I had hamburger cupcakes! They were good but I almost got sick towards the end of mine. Probably too much anxiety or just too much frosting. There was a lot.

I have been in a really good mood and state of mind since my tattoo. I don't know if it was the tattoo that caused it or just finally a sense of peace within myself, but I am glad I feel this way. I hope the rest of my life stays this good. I know I'll still have my ups and downs, but I really hope I can remember where I am now.
Usually birthdays aren't good days for me, but yesterday really was a good day. I didn't do much but I enjoyed it. I think it's so much easier to enjoy something when there aren't all the expectations on it. I have two goals set for this year: acceptance and self-love. There are other things I would like out of this year but I'm not going to make them goals. If they happen, great and if not, then it'll just give me a chance to practice acceptance. Is this where my life begins? I hope so.

last day as a teenager

And just like that it hit me.
I am scared.
so fucking scared.
I am supposed to be getting my first tattoo today.
I'm starting to have second thoughts.
Insecurities.
Doubts.
I want(ed) this tattoo so badly.
I wish I hadn't let my mother's words stay rattling around in my brain.
Look what it has done.
Is it really about me not accepting the ink on my own skin?
or
Is this about my parents not accepting it?
Why do I crave their acceptance so badly?
I am not ready for what is happening.
Time needs to slow down or just stop altogether.
I am not ready to turn 20 tomorrow.
I am not ready for a birthday.
I am not ready for a "new year" and the expectations that come with it.
The expectations are purely my own.
They are damn near impossible to live up to.
I must say that I accomplished one goal in my 19th year.
I remained cut free through all of it.
I was only hospitalized twice which is a drastic improvement from the countless times of my previous teenage years.
19 was a good age.
Well kind of.
So much has happened in the past year and it's really amazing that I made it through as well as I did.
I was almost admitted to a long term facility.
That memory still hurts to bring up.
I doubt Halloween will ever be the same.
I finally accepted that I am gay.
I have not given in to cutting, even though the urges have been strong.
I have not given in to purging either.
I think it was harder in that aspect at times.
I have learned that no doesn't mean no for me certain people.
This year I just think I had a lot of growth.
You know what I want from this next year?
I want acceptance and self-love.
I am getting my tattoo today and those shall be the words I shall live by.

"You are where you need to be. Just take a deep breath."

Celebrate

One year cut free today. Never thought I'd make it here. I spent the whole day moving into my new apartment but it's ok. I have my own room again =D I am beyond happy about that. Hopefully bed soon. I'm beyond tired.

the time has come to self-destruct.

i have fought valiantly. that's the lie i tell myself anyway. but i don't even believe my own lie. i can't hide from the truth. that's all i've been doing: hiding. i push things away. if i deny what's right in front of me, that'll make it go away. denial has gotten me nowhere. stuffing things down only makes the moments when i feel the pain that much more intense. but even when i feel the "pain", what am i even feeling?
hatred?
disgust?
shame?
guilt?
i realize that those feelings describe many things in my life that i push down. i'm not even sure what thing i'm describing right now. how can i know? i don't want to know. just push push push. don't let the feelings surface. don't face your demons. run. hide. even though, it has gotten me nowhere so far, i refuse to stand and face the things that haunt me most.
god i have so many emotions bubbling to the surface right now. tears are threatening to spill over but i keep holding them back. tears won't solve anything. they never have.
i'm so angry. i can't tell if it's actual anger or if i'm just covering the real emotion. either way, anger and hatred are so very strong in my core right now. finding the words to say is hard, but something in me keeps telling me to write. WRITE WHAT?!
i don't understand what writing about it will do. it won't change the past. it won't change people's opinions and thoughts. no. i will still be stuck with it. and the tears begin to fall. anger's slipping into sadness, hurt. why won't it just stop? why won't my brain just forget? please please please just make the memories go away. make the feelings go away. make everything go away. i don't feel suicidal but part of me wishes i did. maybe if i was dead it would go away.
you can't think if you are dead.
you can't feel if you are dead.
i feel so trapped. i have no release. no instant gratification. i would kill to physically self-destruct but i can't. almost a year cut free. wow. stupid record. i hate records. just like i've been purge free for over 4 years. am i proud of myself? NO! i am not proud. i am disgusted. disappointed. i hate my body. i hate myself. i want to destroy the thing i hate so badly but i can't. i fucking can't. almost a year of no cutting and i still haven't found anything *positive* to make me feel better. i can't get it out. it just won't come out.
i barely have motivation to write anymore.
talking goes in circles.
other coping skills just distract. it doesn't solve the problem.
i realize cutting never solved my problem either but at least i felt better. if only for that moment.
some relief is better than none.
why am i so fucked up?
i don't even know what the fuck i am writing. this is not where i intended on going with this entry but my mind kind of took over. now i'm even more upset than when i began and i have no intent on finishing this entry with my original purpose. i am done with this entry. i can't handle it right now.

"Home Is Where the Heart Is"

They say "home is where the heart is"
Few know home is also hell
Then again no one would know
What no one ever tells
I live with a family so toxic
Our love does only harm
Most would be taken aback by the fights
But for us, there's no alarm
Fighting is normalcy
It's the calm times that are worst
In the eye of the storm
Is when the damage most likely hurts
If we never fought each other
Nothing would make us close
Other families bond through hugs
We bond grabbing at each other's throats
Our words come out as knives
That we plunge into each other's backs
Physical blows occur as well
But only behind a door that's cracked
As long as you can't see it
The blow was never dealt
But that doesn't mean no damage was done
Trust me the pain was felt
The bruises fade over time
But the cuts we deal scar
Some may not be physical
But they stay forever on the heart
Our love for one another
Is twisted to say the least
But home is where the heart is
And at home lives family.

this post is to merely say i am alive.