Oh Dear Lord

I'm going to attempt to just rant. Most of the time that probably isn't a good idea; who wants to read that, right? But for now I'm jut trying to get some things out. So many thoughts swirling around in my head, most not completely formed but still they seem to have the power to drive me mad.

Heh, already I can't do it. I write, I rarely rant or ramble. Damn.

Just now a lot of it had to do with my weight, I think. Folks, especially family, telling me to not lose any more. Excuse me, there's still WAY too much fat on this body. Just because all (OK most, seriously, there's one or two adults in the family who are not overweight and many of those who are would be considered obese; I was, once) of you are fat doesn't mean I have to be any longer. I was once before; that doesn't mean I cannot be thin. There is no rule that states that once you have been fat you must stay that way to some degree. I want to be thin, that's all. OK so I know that a person needs some fat on their body and that's fine; they do not need the pockets of fat that I still have, the fat that I still want to be rid of. A lot of healthy people in this world do not have fat like I do. Ugh when I was home for Christmas my mom actually said something to me about it. She wouldn't have, had never before, if it were not for my stupid sister who was really not so much worried about my weight loss (I had not lost an unreasonable amount between Christmas and the last time I had seen her) as the fact that she is falling further and further behind; I am getting thinner (BMI wise I am no longer considered overweight even) and she is still fat. One cousin (whom I hadn't seen since the beginning of the summer) asked me if I was starving myself *rolls eyes*. There was no logical basis for that question. For all they should guess I'm losing it in a healthy way (we know that I am not but there is no reason for them to suspect otherwise). Even my step mom said something, though not to me directly, she said something to my brother. What the hell is wrong with you people? I've got the document on my computer to prove that there should be no reason for your suspicions! The fact that you're all more or less correct doesn't matter, you've got no reason to be guessing it to begin with!

Huh. Once I get going I guess it is not so impossible for me to rant. Good to know.

What else? This is where the thoughts become less completely formed and more just vague ideas and torturous feeling. Lord I'm going nuts.I feel awful. I'm very easily brought to tears (not that I give in most of the time but they are there). I feel really really really lousy. I'm so tired of this all, I don't want to do it any more. I feel hopeless, like I will always be stuck here. Like life will just be one long roller coaster; sometimes I'll be better than others but there will always be another plunge ahead, back to the Pit. I don't want to do that for the rest of my life! *tear* It struck me just recently too that part of why there may be no real hope is that it has been too long. Too long that I have been allowed to go with little to no treatment, and none of it adequate, none of it what it should be for someone such as myself. And I wonder if there isn't some sort of correlation between length of time before appropriate treatment and chance of recovery? I mean I know that personality disorders... you don't actually recover from them. But you can learn to live with them, deal with them, have a life in spite of them. But I wonder if at some point a person doesn't just get used to being &#$%ed up. What is it, a negative correlation?, where one thing goes one way and the other goes, well, the other way. So as length of time between onset and appropriate treatment becomes increases the probability of successful treatment decreases..? *@#%ing hell *sob*

Oh, somebody read this... somebody help...