.:Too Much, Not Enough:.: January 2018

Well, it's the start of yet another year. Unfortunately, I don't have much positive to look back on from the last year. Usually, one of the big things I look back on is the progress I've made with my agoraphobia, but this past year, I've barely left the house – even less so than usual.

I went out for dinner with the family twice – once to an Indian place in March for my brother's birthday, and once to an Italian place in April for my birthday.

I also went to one of Billy's vet appointments in March, which mum usually does solo. As it was a consultation for his most recent lot of surgery, and as I've taken on 100% of his financial burden, there were big decisions to make (if I couldn't pay, it looked like he may have had to be put down, although fortunately I managed to secure loan, which I'm still paying off).

I did go for a short walk in town (somewhere I never venture) with my friend R when I was staying with him in April, although thankfully it was quiet as it was a public holiday and everywhere was shut.

That's it. So, basically, I haven't really ventured out in public except for March and April. I have done 8 or 9 walks with my GP to go to appointments and as a form of exposure therapy, but it's still not getting any easier. I've also visited friends – R three times, and A three times – which never involves going out in public. They pick me up and drop me off. The latter, I shall not be visiting anymore, due to an unfortunate incident the last time I saw him.

Last year's resolutions are pretty much pointless to even mention, but here we go.

I wanted to start some form of online study, although I came to the conclusion I'm better off expanding my sewing skills myself.
I wanted to learn tightrope walking, but the agoraphobia aspect made that impossible.
The same goes for wanting to learn to dance.
I never got my probationary driver's license, as mum refused to keep taking me driving, and it's only now that I'm starting to find the finance to pay for lessons, so I hope I'll get there this year.
I certainly didn't get back to monthly outings.
The only one I did achieve was reaching a year off synthetics (June 27th).

This year, I'm setting very basic resolutions. I don't want specific goals and deadlines, but rather small things I'd like to achieve.

I want to cut back my drinking to a more appropriate level, instead of drinking most days, and I want to drink less when I do, and start later in the day. More on this another time.

I want to sew more, and learn more. Since some of the larger financial hurdles have now been taken care of (such as saving for a laptop), I've finally started ordering what I need to finish furnishing my sewing room (mostly storage items).

I want to finally start driving lessons once I have a bit more money to do so (when the sewing room is done, when Billy's surgery is paid off, and/or when my drinking cuts back further).

But probably most importantly, my New Years resolution is to not spend time with people who treat me poorly and/or do not value me, just because I have no friends and am desperate for human interaction.

Christmas, to put it succinctly, sucked. The few days beforehand were busy, getting baking done for the day. I didn't feel like making anything, but mum had a few things she wanted to make. If I did it, at least I could weigh everything up and make sure I had accurate nutritional info.

Then, on the day, I was up at 8am, alarm set. I had an hour for my coffee and to do my usual morning notes, blog checking, Facebook, etc, and then I was in the kitchen 99% of the time from 9am through 2pm, when lunch was served.

After lunch was done, I was exhausted. I had a mini breakdown from stress and just feeling so overwhelmed. I spent most of the afternoon alone outside, drinking and smoking while my mum and brother sat inside talking and laughing.

Feeling so overwhelmed, I did something stupid, and got sick for a few days.

I'd been wanting to take a laxative overdose since the week before Christmas, but had too much to do and organise. Between the stress and nibbling on homemade goodies, the urge built. The tipping point, ironically, was when I had too many sugar-free sweets on the weekend, trying to avoid the homemade goodies, and ended up with a disgustingly bloated stomach. I just wanted to cut it off.

At the end of Christmas Day, with my to-do list quieter, I decided to take them that night. Although I do enjoy seeing the water weight drop (even though the gain after they lose their effect and I find myself blocked up is distressing), it's more of just another form of self-harm for me. And sadly enough, it gives me an excuse to spend a couple of days doing nothing, without beating myself up for being lazy, and it makes me too sick to even consider eating.

4 senna is the standard dose. My usual overdoses are 100. This time, it was 200 – 100 one day, and 100 more the next. It's addictive, the pain. Next time, I want to do it day after day for an entire week. I want to see how much it would hurt, how much it would harm me.

There's much more to say, especially about appointments and my goal to cut back on drinking, but this post is already more than long enough, so I'll leave that for next time. For now, Christmas photos.