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down a couple pounds.

Nov. 24th, 2010 | 01:10 pm

So I've adopted a vegetarian/sort of vegan diet.  I say sort of vegan because I still eat eggs - they are delicious.  It's actually been a lot easier than I thought it would be.  Probably because I'm restricting my caloric intake as well, and am thinking that whatever it is I'm eating is fucking delicious.

yesterday I had vegan soft tacos, thanks to Daiya Vegan Cheese.  The best thing I've ever stumbled upon. They were fucking amazing.

I'm so set on losing these unsightly pounds that I've accumulated that it's actually getting easier and easier not to eat.  It's really just about breaking old habits and making new ones.  I know that at this rate I'll be about 20 pounds lighter by new years, which is exactly where I want to be.  I'm very strategic about my eating, and I have to be.  I eat in front of my mom so that she will think that the weight loss is just a symptom of vegetarianism and my quitting drinking.  I think this all started after Andrea's visit.  She's thin.  She's thinner than me now.  Her collar bones are more defined, her upper arms are smaller and her waist is smaller than mine now.  This is unusual.  I've always been the thinnest girl in my family.  I've always clung to that as a comfort.   Don't get me wrong, I'm not unhappy that Andrea is healthier now than she's ever been, in fact quite the opposite!  She looks really happy about herself for the first time in... well... ever, and I'm genuinely glad that she's doing so well, she deserves it.  I'm just unhappy with myself, because I've been ousted from my comfort zone.  Juliana, the big fat fatty. 

Yes, Stephanie is only an inch shorter than me and weighs more, but she's proportional.  She's the only one in the family with breasts that suit her frame.  She's the blond bombshell of the family, she just doesn't see it., which is too bad.  I think her insecurity holds her back so much, and it's really unfortunate because she actually is the most beautiful girl out of the three of us (and out of most other girls).  I would love to see her do an ultra-glam photo shoot in the style of Marilyn Monroe or Bettie Davis, because the fact of the matter is that she embodies that 40's Hollywood Pin-up glamor that so few do.

Where does that leave me?  The awkward youngest who has the potential to be beautiful.  I've been beautiful before, and maybe my idea of beauty is skewed, but I personally love the frailness and delicate appearance of models.  It's an unconventional beauty in that most men don't find it attractive.  perfectly flat chest, collar and hip bones that could take someones eye out, and the vulnerability of a pre-teen.  I'm well aware that part of my obsession with being thin is a frantic effort to re-live my childhood.  If I can turn back the clock on my body, then I can make new childhood memories.   I distract myself from the current chaos of my emotions by hyper focusing on weight, food and thinness.  This serves a valid purpose emotionally, twisted as it may be.

I've lost about 2 inches around my hips already, and just need to lose another 4, which is about 20 pounds away.  Winter is the easiest time to lose weight for me, because my metabolism is working overtime in order to stay warm.  The colder it gets, the easier it is to lose the weight.

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(no subject)

Nov. 10th, 2010 | 12:26 am

Hydromorphone. half an 8 pill.

It is a very strong form of morphine, that is comparable to heroin.  It's prescribed to severe cancer patients.  I just got a couple pills from a friend who's going through cancer treatments.  I'm writing this as a closed entry for those who know my home phone number in case of emergency.  I took little enough that there should be no severe reaction. I've only ever been a fan of heroin and bennies.  Never pill form opiates as strong as this.  I want to make sure that I post that I know that I only took enough to knock me out.  Should there be an adverse reaction though, it's a total and complete accident.  That's it. I wasn't attempting to hurt myself, and I feel that anyone who knows me or my family, or how to contact us (a few of you) should pass that along, just incase I end up in hospital on a fluke or whatever.

try my cell if you're worried, but I'll probably be passed out.

nothing I haven;t had injuected into me while my heart was operated on.  whtaever.

later guys. I had a good run anyways, and I fucking hate my life so whatever.

if anything happens tell mom I love her. (though it probably won't.... seriously. I have a pace maker to shock me awake.)

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(no subject)

Sep. 2nd, 2010 | 09:57 am

Lately I've been feelings more and more isolated from my peers.  About 5% of them actually understand the issues I've been dealing with, while 95% of them say they understand, and proceed to make me feel like shit over everything I have zero control over.  I'm so done with highschool, I barely survived it the first time and now I feel like I'm right back in there.  I feel like there aren't very many people who can relate to the things that are going on in my life, actually I can count the people who do on one hand.  

I don't get disability cheques - I have to work for my money, and I don't want to spend it entirely frivolously;  I consider my spending frivolous enough as it is.

I'm moving across the country, all by my lonesome.  I have to learn a new language, contact embassies and consulates and go through a shit load of bureaucratic garbage on a day-to-day basis.  I DON'T HAVE TIME!

Clubbing is fun, drinking is fun, going out to the bar is fun; but, I'm finished with getting knocked off my ass.  I feel like the only one who knows my limit and is able to cut myself off at this point in life.  I feel like everyone's mom at 14 years old, you know, peeling their daughter off the bathroom floor, getting called a bitch for saying "You need to get up right now, this isn't where you want to go to sleep tonight" and then paying for a cab.  No appreciation for it.  I'm going to buy my mom some flowers or something, because that's bullshit and I never want to deal with that ever again.  I feel like I shouldn't have to though, because my friends aren't 14 year old idiots who can't hold a mickey of smirnoff, but alas, now their 21-23 year olds who can't hold a 26 or 40 pounder of smirnoff.  Ughhh.

I'm fed up, have a pacemaker, real-life stress like debts and visa payments, immigration woes, and honestly?  I just don't have the patience for it anymore, I'm at the point where I feel like if there are friends who give me more grief over nothing, then I just can't be friends with them anymore.

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Day 1

Jun. 9th, 2010 | 11:49 am

Hours smoke-free:  21

Today is the first day of my adapted diet and lifestyle change.  It's hard, but it's not hard.  I have the biggest cold sore I've ever had in my entire life, dangling from the right corner of my top lip.  A stress filled blister that is seemingly trying to dominate my entire face and claim it for it's own.  If everyone could just fuck off it would be a bit easier.  I don't mean everyone, I mean a select few people who have been sending me e-mails, text messages and voicemails asking why I'm pushing them away, and that our friendships seem distant.  If they could all just congregate together they would actually understand that it's not about them, and that I'm trying to clean up my mess of a life right now.  In a way I think it's almost selfish that they think it's directed towards them and our friendship.  3 people.  3 people who know exactly the health/life crisis I'm in right now.  Thinking that it's about them.  It would be so much easier if it were.

I don't want to get out of bed in the morning, I don't want to get out of my Pajamas, I don't want to shower or do my hair.  I want to lay on the couch rotting.  But I don't.  I have to quit smoking, actually I guess technically I already have quit smoking, I just really really want to smoke myself to death on a small level.  I am so fucking fat right now, and that's not the eating disorder talking it's the rational 165 pound Juliana who's natural set point weight is 145. 

I'm setting some pretty easy goals for myself in this first seven days:

1) completely cut out dairy - it's just not good for me and my stomach and my emotional health.
2) quit smoking.
3) exercise - at least a 30 minute walk every day.

I can commit to those things.  Easy enough.  I know that I'll feel better once the dairy is detoxed from my system.  Lots of water.  Lots of Vitamins.  I can get through this.  I just need to do simple things like take a vitamin every day, and I will feel better.  It feels like the weight of the world is coming down on me right now, and that even something as minuscule as taking a vitamin is this huge mountain to climb, but I know that's ridiculous, and I know that I will feel better after 3 days of taking them.  Drinking water.  I have to drink more water.  easy to do, makes you feel better.  Fuck why does it feel so hard then?  I'm whiny and complaining but I will still do these things, because I can't do this again.  I can't let myself fall into the bottomless pit of depression and I can feel it happening.  I can feel the walls closing in on me.  I can see myself turning my alarm off and going back to sleep for another 5 hours, I can see myself eating food that I know is bad for me, and eating too much of it.  I can see myself punishing me for some reason, feeling unworthy, undeserving of a life worth living.  I can feel my feet slipping from underneath me, the weight of my body and gravity working against me, dragging me down into this canyon that leads nowhere.  Time standing still for me, but the world moving at an accelerated rate, passing me by, leaving me.

I have so many thoughts that spin through my mind but they're all useless.  There's nothing going on but everything is going on at the same time.  I'm staring into space, my brain is shut off but I know that there are ten thousand thoughts racing through it that I can't make sense of, so I shut them out instead.  Active and inactive all at once.  Everything is a mess, This new medication isn't working.  I can't take my old medication but there's no point in taking the new one if it doesn't work.  I'm in limbo.  I'm stuck.  I have to try everything I can though, no matter how hard it seems and feels.  Each arm weighs a thousand pounds.  I have to move.  I can't leave myself behind.  I want this to work so badly but I feel so hopeless that it all seems asinine.  What's the point, why bother.  My room is a mess.  My life is a mess.  My mind is a mess.  My hair is a mess.  I am a mess.  

I hate being alone.  I can't ever be alone.  Especially now.  It's torture, my soul feels like it's being torn in every direction, like I've been cut but it won't clot; I keep bleeding and feel myself constantly fading farther and farther.  I need to have someone there to remind me of who I am.  I can't be alone.  I can't remember where I heard it, but someone once said "we all need mirrors to remind ourselves of who we are"  it doesn't work.  I look in the mirror and I see nothing.  I see a mistake.  I see a joke of a shell of a waste of a human life.  Mirrors don't work anymore, I need to be near someone so that they can tell me who I am.  Even if they don't know who I am, whatever they tell me I am, I will be, so that I can be something at least.  I can't stop this spinning, it hurts, it keeps going so fast around me; I'm on an amusement park ride that won't stop and I just need it to stop.  Sean's Clonazapam helps me to sleep and to fade out, to find a small amount of relief but it makes me feel awful in the mornings; it's not a solution, it's a poison.  It's an escape when there feels like there is no escape, only it's a lie.  It's anxiety, loneliness, neediness, self-loathing, a deep seeded desire to destroy who I am, to find out who I am.  It's like mania trapped in a paralysis victim.

I was fine when I started writing this, but in a matter of a few minutes my demeanor has completely shifted.  Just like it will shift back in half an hour.  Just like it will shift again an hour after that.  I am so exhausted.

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Alright, I'll admit it now; I'm scared.

Jun. 5th, 2010 | 09:38 pm
mood: cold cold

Okay, it's coming down to the wire now, something's gotta give.

I went in for my check-up at the heart/pacemaker clinic this morning and found out that my heart isn't as happy as I thought it was.  The Pacemaker keeps track of my heart on a constant basis, taking note of any abnormal activity and storing that information in the database at the clinic.  Over the last few months my heart has consistently experienced 7-10 bouts of high pulse activity per week on average.  The notes that were taken include the exact time and date of the irregular activity, mine were even occurring at TRUE rest, the middle of the night, while I was sleeping.  My Pulse rate irregularities were listed as being anywhere from 180 BPM to 200 BPM, which isn't good.  at all.  I saw that I had one day where my pulse rose rapidly to those levels three times.  That scares me.  A lot.

What's even worse than that though, is that there was a ventricular fibrillation recorded.  What that means is that my heart essentially lost the ability to beat as it normally should and instead began to quiver.  One of the most immediately important vital organs in my body completely fucked me.  It's like a car stalling, you freak out for a minute and try to start the car again, and maybe it'll start or maybe it won't; except it's my heart, and if it doesn't start again I'm dead.  Ventricular Fibrillation is the first step in a two step process towards achieving Cardiac Arrest or Sudden Cardiac Death. (both of which happened to me in October)

I forgot all of the questions that I wanted to ask my doctor; like, "why can't I go on roller coasters?  is it an adrenalin thing or is it an electromagnetism issue?"  They all seemed shallow and superficial, and besides, I was too distracted by the charts and figures that were somehow telling me that I'm fucked.  My pulse has been a steady 120 all day, needless to say I'm dealing with some anxiety.  On that note though, I was told that I needed to figure out the external causes of my anxiety and completely eliminate them from my life.  It's actually pretty easy for me to determine the culprits on that front, which is good and bad.  

1.  Sean  -  I can't talk to him anymore, since I've basically been told that our relationship is actually killing me.

2.  Pauline  -  The ventricular fibrillation occurred at work, and I can actually recall the exact moment that it happened, Pauline had been being particularly verbally abusive to me - all the while I was getting a massive rush of customers in my final 30 minutes on shift.  I was having an anxiety attack and suddenly felt like my chest was made of ice; the wind had been knocked out of me and I actually put my hand over my chest to make sure my heart was beating.  I guess I should have checked my pulse instead of just grabbing my left tit.  

3.  Smoking  -  I don't really know the exact reasons why this is on the list, but shit, it can't be good for me since there's a photo of a rotting heart on the pack I'm currently smoking.

I don't even really know what to think right now, probably because I've been running on auto pilot since I saw the flat ECG line this morning during my appointment.  Being confronted with your own mortality, it kind of fucks you up.

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The general Consensus

May. 21st, 2010 | 05:38 pm

Three.  I've now had Three Psychiatrists tell me that they think I have mild to moderate Borderline Personality Disorder.  The last one to do so said that I was possibly on the milder end of the spectrum at this point in my treatment/life.  I've been researching it a little and I have to say... It's actually kind of fitting.  Borderlines tend to get away with a lot of stuff, because they're pretty manipulative and genuinely don't care about the consequences; unfortunately, that sounds a lot like me.  I can be intensely manipulative, but I'm not, I just don't like getting in trouble; so, I talk my way out of a lot of stuff.  I've always been good at that, I don't know... People in my life just said that I had the 'gift of the gab', which is a nicer way of saying 'manipulative snot' I think.

am·biv·a·lence

–noun
1.
uncertainty or fluctuation, esp. when caused by inability to make a choice or by a simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite or conflicting things.
2.
Psychology. the coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions.

This is supposed to be a fairly broad summation of what B.P.D. is.  One word is never really enough though.  Sometimes I love who I am, sometimes I want to destroy myself with every ounce of strength that I can muster.  It's an exhausting merry-go-round.  The really messed up thing is that the closer I get to piecing myself back together, the more memories come flooding back in.  I mean, I remembered the whole Alex thing back from when I was 4-5 (I was going into kindergarten the following fall to the event), but I tucked it away and never really brought it back out.  I never really looked at it and dissected the event, digested it for what it really was.  I don't have any hard feelings towards him, because he was a little kid too, only 2 years older than me I think, so really?  He had no clue what he was doing; however, that doesn't mean that it didn't fracture a part of my identity.  When your first unwanted sexual experience is at 4 years old it kind of sets the tone for how you view yourself, and your self worth.  

I broke down in tears one night a few weeks ago and told my mom about it, it was the first time that I had even really realized what happened.  Kids will be kids, but it wasn't just that to me.  Finally seeing the giant 'M' on your forehead is pretty devastating.  These things that I remember, but I don't, they keep coming back into focus.

I kind of like one symptom of the B.P.D. though, the detachment; it makes things easier.  People leave, it doesn't hurt.  People hurt you, you don't care.  You leave before they leave you, no tears.  It's incredibly isolating at times, but I firmly believe that you can only ever really rely on yourself.  It gets lonely, but I would honestly rather feel a constant mild hurt and isolation as opposed to being shattered every time someone walks on my heart.  When it comes to an authentic emotional attachment, I'm kind of robotic; but, there are times when it's better than others.

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(no subject)

Mar. 26th, 2010 | 09:29 am

Trust is like a mirror; you can fix it if it's broken, but you'll always see the crack in that motherfucker's reflection.

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(no subject)

Jan. 5th, 2010 | 10:22 pm
mood: disappointed disappointed

The sad fact is this:  I heart a cardiac arrest, was clinically DEAD for 18 minutes, in a coma for 6 days, on life support for seven, had heart surgery and was in the hospital for over two weeks.  I know that you knew this happened and I know what your response to hearing about it was.  I would have called you if the shoe was on the other foot, I wouldn't have brushed it off.  I'm not going to lie, I was actually really hurt when I heard what you said (or rather didn't) about the whole thing, just because we're not friends anymore, doesn't mean we weren't.  Despite knowing that you wouldn't even extend the courtesy of a phone call to say "hey man, you died and are actually really sick, take care of yourself and get well soon." I know that if I caught wind of a death in the family, car accident or health crisis I would still be there to offer you support, whether or not you would take it is beyond my control; but because I value the friendship we once had, I would still extend that care and support where as you actually took a couple minutes to think about it and made the choice not to.  Ouch.  I kind of questioned if our friendship really held a place in your heart, but now I know that it doesn't and never did.

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I got a job!

Oct. 1st, 2009 | 04:52 pm

A couple of days ago I went to an interview at this newish organic high end grocery store and they just called me back and offered me the job!!  Most of their employees start at 9/hour, but they said that because I had so much experience they're starting me at 11!  I'm really really happy about it.  I get a MASSIVE discount on all of the wonderful organic/vegan/hypoallergenic food and all I have to do is be a barista for their in house cafe!!  I am sooooo over joyed about this because 1) it's full time work, (40 hours/week) 2) it's evening shifts and 3) it's exactly the neighbourhood I want to be working in (cambie village, a block from the sky train).  I'm going to be making enough money to get a small place in that neighbourhood, plus I get like 50% off my grocery bill.

I'm helping Jordan move today so he's giving me his old computer and a small TV set, which really really really makes me happy, because it means that I'll litterally be set for moving out now.

This is the best october 1st I've had in 7 years!

Oh yeah, yesterday was the 7 year aniversay of my dad passing away, so i chopped all my hair off and basically just said that this was a new chapter for me.  I think the universe agrees.

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(no subject)

Jan. 8th, 2009 | 07:59 pm

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