Word Vomit

I am feeling a lot better than I was a month or two ago. But things are still hard. And I am working my ass off everyday to make things as good as they possibly can be. So I have no patience or sympathy for people who don’t do that for themselves and complain about how shitty their lives are.

I’m aware I’m about to sound like a huge bitch. I AM a huge bitch. I have no idea where this rage is coming from, and it’s probably misdirected, but I need to let it out somewhere.

My best friend is so fucking dramatic. SO. FUCKING. DRAMATIC. First of all, while I worked my ass off in Anorexia recovery, she wasn’t even trying to recover from her Bulimia, and complains about it all the fucking time. If she was trying, that would be one thing, but she isn’t.

Today, she seemingly decided to actually start trying, and she’s being dramatic as fuck about it. This is day one of not bingeing and purging, and I get that it’s hard, believe me. But she was fine until her boyfriend came over, and then she stopped studying and ran into her room crying and he’s comforting her, and she’s already had Ativan so she shouldn’t even give a shit anymore. Like, you don’t need to be crying like a child.

I get that I’m being an asshole. I fucking hate myself. But I can’t make it go away. So whatever.

Not to mention, she has her boyfriend to support her. Some of us have fucking nobody. Even if I wanted to throw a hissy fit for attention, nobody would care. But how about you show off the fact that you have everything in the world by crying over nothing?

I’m having a shit time every day, but I am putting a regular face on it and doing the shit I need to do. WITH NOBODY TO SUPPORT ME. But now you have all the attention in the world and I get to sit here having actual problems with fucking nobody to give a shit. I can’t even take Ativan because I have academic responsibilities that I actually attend to.

I honestly was so much less dramatic around the time I attempted suicide twice and overdosed a total of three times. Whatever.

I don’t know why I’m so fucking angry, but I am. I am a piece of shit and the scum of the earth and maybe I should have waited a little longer to go to the hospital after I did those things last month. That’s all.


Great Fucking Night

Warning: Author is tipsy. Reader discretion is advised.

My sarcasm game in the title is strong.

Hello, everybody. It has been a little bit since I’ve written. I think I always say that.

I’m pissed. I’m fucking pissed at everyone and everything and I hate it. Tonight is Math and Stats pub night (Sorry, I can’t be tamed). I had to miss the last Math and Stats pub night because my ex went and rounded up a whole group of her friends to go with her. I was determined to go this time, and I still am. My roommate agreed to go with me earlier this week, but she’s having a pathetic meltdown because of a midterm she knew was today when she agreed to come with me.

I have OCD. I get incredibly triggered when plans are changed on me. So I know I’m being a colossal fucking bitch, but how about you rally because it’s a midterm? The professor uses different grading schemes, so that midterm doesn’t even need to count. Get a grip. She didn’t even tell me she wasn’t going with me anymore until I asked.

I have been looking forward to this event all week because I have zero time to socialize ever. And now I’m going alone and I may not know anybody and my ex may or may not be there, but that’s neat. Did I mention I have Social Anxiety Disorder? So my roommate wrote a midterm that doesn’t even count, and that is grounds to trigger everything.

Not to mention the fact that I am actually lonely as fuck. I miss having somebody so much, and it’s incredibly hard to meet queer women because they’re a much smaller proportion of the population than straight men. Part of me just wants to take some guy home to feel better about my life, but I’m really not about that life right now. Unless maybe they’re trans and I don’t have to deal with a penis. I’m being really inappropriate; I apologize.

I’m just really fucking sad and everybody is letting me down which was my entire fucking childhood because I’m an idiot. Wish me luck at finding somebody to love me because I’m going to be a sad, pathetic asshole until then.



PS: Probably more drunk than tipsy at this point. Let’s pretend I live in a timezone where it isn’t 6:46. It was 7:46 at this time a couple of weeks ago? I’ll stop.

I’ve Had Enough

I was feeling really good for a couple weeks, but for the last few days, my mood has been going downhill. I really enjoy my frequent socializing, but on some level, I hate everyone and wish they would all go away. I am happy to be free of my previous relationship, but I am so horribly lonely without it.

I have been working so hard and staying so busy and I get through every day fulfilling my obligations and taking care of myself. It is so difficult every single day. But I’m doing it. And nobody is around to see that.

I’ve just been in a rotten mood today for no reason. I snapped at my roommate about some stupid detail of the bus schedule, and I have never done that before. I immediately took Ativan and held in inexplicable tears while sipping my iced coffee.

I have just been working so hard and getting so much accomplished and it’s great and I should be happy about it. Usually, I am. But I’m still sad, and I’m still alone. And I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

Honestly, I’ve just had enough. The clocks change tonight, so maybe the extra hour of sleep will help.


PS: Expect to see me in psych emerg if Trump wins on Tuesday. I actually fucking can’t. Thanks Comey for illegally releasing details of an FBI investigation this close to an election. Thanks Democratic Party for rigging the primaries so the only person who could lose to Donald Trump won the nomination. Thanks Hillary for being an immoral, corrupt, war-mongering politician who everyone hates yet who also happens to be the world’s only fucking hope. I’m really into US politics I’m sorry I’ll stop.

Old Unfinished Post: The 5 Stages of Relationship Grief

I wrote this half-post about a week after my ex broke up with me. I was able to analyze my initial emotional reactions to the breakup, and it was easy to map them onto the infamous stages of grief. But when I got closer to describing my present emotions, the categorization seemed much less clear. I think this is because I hadn’t yet processed these fresh feelings, so even putting a name to them was impossible.

Regardless of the reason, I abandoned the post, and it has been sitting alone in my “drafts” ever since. I don’t want to delete this record of my experience, so I figure I may as well post it.

Without further ado, I hereby present “The 5 Stages of Relationship Grief”

I am fortunate enough to have never had anyone close to me pass away.

So when I began to notice parallels between my feelings of heartbreak and the infamous “5 Stages of Grief”, I was reluctant to verbalize this or even validate it. What I am experiencing is “just a breakup” and is nothing compared to the devastation of losing someone.

When I met with my counselor last Wednesday, she provided me with the validation I denied myself. She told me that the brain reacts to breakups and grief in similar ways. I make no claims as to the comparative severity of my pain, as pain is subjective. I am only stating that my current struggle bears similarities to the grieving process.

I am currently experiencing my first heartbreak. What struck me about this process was that the pain existed in several “layers”. One painful feeling would pass only to be replaced by an emotion that was very different, yet equally painful. I feel like I am mourning several tragedies at once, never entirely sure which form tomorrow’s pain will take.

My emotions during this time align quite accurately with the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Experts say that these stages are not experienced linearly. They are not consecutive levels that, once beaten,  conclude with complete recovery. This is consistent with my experience. I move between the various emotions often and unpredictably.

So, here is a summary of what I have experienced since my ex-girlfriend broke up with me one week ago.


Surprisingly, my initial reaction to the breakup was anger. I immediately told my now-ex-girlfriend to gather her belongings and leave my house. I then proceeded to send her a slew of hateful text messages.I said things I am not proud of, consumed by a rage-fueled compulsion to inflict on her the pain she had just caused me.


The day of the breakup, I didn’t tell my parents. I cancelled our plans to have dinner with my mom the following day, but didn’t give a reason. My ex and I had broken up once in the past, and were back together within 24 hours. I did not desire to have the embarrassing “nevermind” conversation. I was constantly expecting a phone call, a knock on the door, a text message, some form of my girlfriend telling me she wished to reunite. That never came.

I began calling her obsessively, dozens of times in a row. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I would call her. When she blocked me on Facebook chat, I tried Google Hangouts. I sent her texts. I sent her e-mails. I couldn’t stop. In my mind, the woman who loved me and wanted to be with me was still there, and I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted that more than anything in the world.


When my attempts to contact my girlfriend went unanswered for days, I was forced to accept the fact that we would not be reconciling. This breakup was permanent. My anger returned, and so did the nasty texts.


At some point, I stopped caring about my ex. I resented the way she had handled our breakup, and I no longer wished to be with her. I felt empowered, and got excited about finding someone better.


One night, I became incredibly frustrated that I had not yet received a real explanation for the breakup. I knew I deserved this, and was going to get it.



Depression/ Anger






I’ve been posting a little bit less lately. At least I think that’s the case. 

Regardless, I’ve been doing better. A lot better. And I tend to write less when that happens.

I’m really coming out the other side of this. It’s now been over two months since the breakup, and I think about it less every week. I’ve been eating enough, going to the gym, keeping up in school, and most importantly, staying out of the hospital. 

But obviously, since I am posting today, something is wrong. And something is. But not really.

Nothing bad has happened. I have been to plenty of social events this past week. I’m doing well in school. The weather has been nice. I no longer miss ex girlfriend or the relationship I had with her, because I can see how toxic and unpleasant it was. But I’m still sad.

Maybe it’s because it’s been almost exactly one year since I met her. Maybe it’s because I had an extra lecture with her this week. Maybe it’s because I’m on my period. But I just feel really… sad.

I guess I’m disappointed that things turned out the way they did. I felt so much excitement when my relationship was beginning, and even though it went to shit by January, I grieve for the relationship I thought I would have and for the person I thought my ex was.

That relationship felt so special, that I still sometimes have trouble believing that it ended. Part of me really thought I would end up with this girl. And while I certainly no longer want that, I feel so horribly sad for the girl a few months ago who did.

I don’t know if this makes any sense. But I hope everyone is well and I’ll try to write again soon (maybe even without being sad!).