(no subject)
Sep. 28th, 2014 07:39 pm( I actually look okay here )
I cut the photo off at the wrists though since they still look kinda fucked up and I think they look gross and I hate them. But my face isn't cut or bruised and I like that. Gabe took this in the locker room even though I was just looking at it. I'm not allowed into the gym yet because of my heart. Which is actually a great excuse because I wouldn't want to go into the gym anyway. I did get dizzy today walking around the grounds though and I had to lie down on the grass so I didn't faint. So maybe I should stop trying to do so many things just because I don't have to lie in a bed and go everywhere in a wheel chair any more. My heart didn't suddenly repair itself, I just moved to a treatment facility they only let me come to because there's registered nurses here too.
Weigh-ins continue to make me feel like crap and being forced to eat makes me feel kind of like I'm in prison but I don't want to make it worse by losing weight uurrgghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Better than the nose tube. I am so thankful every day that shit is out of me.
This was supposed to be a cheery post because the picture looked okay. Oops. Okay, good things. Group therapy is actually really nice because I can talk about fucked up shit without worrying I'm breaking someone's brain. Because everyone in my PTSD group has been through something totally fucked up. It's...freeing.
Night still sucks though.
I cut the photo off at the wrists though since they still look kinda fucked up and I think they look gross and I hate them. But my face isn't cut or bruised and I like that. Gabe took this in the locker room even though I was just looking at it. I'm not allowed into the gym yet because of my heart. Which is actually a great excuse because I wouldn't want to go into the gym anyway. I did get dizzy today walking around the grounds though and I had to lie down on the grass so I didn't faint. So maybe I should stop trying to do so many things just because I don't have to lie in a bed and go everywhere in a wheel chair any more. My heart didn't suddenly repair itself, I just moved to a treatment facility they only let me come to because there's registered nurses here too.
Weigh-ins continue to make me feel like crap and being forced to eat makes me feel kind of like I'm in prison but I don't want to make it worse by losing weight uurrgghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Better than the nose tube. I am so thankful every day that shit is out of me.
This was supposed to be a cheery post because the picture looked okay. Oops. Okay, good things. Group therapy is actually really nice because I can talk about fucked up shit without worrying I'm breaking someone's brain. Because everyone in my PTSD group has been through something totally fucked up. It's...freeing.
Night still sucks though.