undertow

Life is interesting...sometimes its smooth sails. Boring at times, but enjoyable. Sometimes its an undertow that takes you without warning, and by the time the waves stop thrashing you crawl to the shore covered in salt, seaweed, hair in your face, exhilarated, chest-pounding, 10 miles from where you were headed to begin with. Hopefully when it is said and done your unshaken, but more often than not it leaves you dazed, inarticulate, and desperate to get your bearings before you take your next step. 


I am not sure which part of the undertow I'm in, but I know I'm lost somewhere in the darkness of it. Glimpses of light, but the salt forcing my eyes shut before I can reorient and find my direction. So here I am waiting it out, again. Desperate for my next breath, and to wash up somewhere on the shore.

Currently, I'm back in the USA. Working at a hospital before my PhD program starts. I deferred for a year because the stipend wasn't as much as I was hoping. It's pretty defeating if I'm honest. Not the lack of funding, it is what is with that... but the feeling of free-falling into a depression just is so crippling. It hurts to be back here, alone, emotionally and physically, waiting for a good day...

It also hurts how familiar this all feels. 

I keep focusing on trying to remember this isn't forever, but what if I don't make it out of this chasm again...what if October finds its way into March to repeat its self again...


I suppose I should take solace in that I'm not purging again...but I think its because things are so bad right now I don't even care 

take care beautiful people. one way or another we will find the shore one day.

with love, 
Ell

low hanging fog...

So been in living in England this summer, and it's funny how even in a bustling city people are pretty much the same everywhere. Pre-pubescent teens holding their arms across their stomach with a death grip to rival that of an alcoholic holding on to a handle of cheap whiskey, old men hunched over reading papers trying to make idle conversation with a barista who is far from interested, mom's trying to look like their nerves aren't frazzled as they walk/run after their children shhhhing with each tired step at their innocent yet awnrey squeals...nothing really changes it seems, except the postcode.

I suppose it shouldn't be surprised that is a shared experience I find for myself. Depression...hanging heavy and doesn't seem to be any blustering winds sweeping down the plains to remove it. 

Master's is almost done in other news, and my advisor likes my PhD thesis...that is great. To be honest, I didn't picture myself here, I am surprised I made it this far. I just wish I had enough.. or maybe less...something whatever it is to enjoy it. 

Food has gone back to shit. So really no recovery there right now I am sad to report after having done really for over 100 days straight since my birthday. 

I'm not sure what needs to change, but I really hope whatever needs to does because I am so so tired of this. So tired and so so lonely.

Anyways packing for Edinburgh now, and if anyone is ever wondering is it worth it to visit Scotland... yes, 10/10...the highland hiking, the whiskey, the castle, it is incredibly brooding and romantic and I am so excited to be going back.

I bet you didn't know you would be getting a side of travel advice with the usual depressive ramblings. 

with love,
~ell

tip toe if you must....however you have to just take that first step

Today is day 1 of a journey I feel ill-equipped to take.  I'm afraid, I'm wary of the outcome, I fear that it will result fruitless, but regardless I have to do this. My own King Arthur heroine quest of sorts. Although, rather than deadly dragons and druids I face a winged creature whose snakeheads hiss lies at me, turning me to stone with every move and choice I attempt to make. Keeping me frozen in a perpetual state of inability and illness, keeping me bulimic. Unable to see the person through the venomous looks, becoming nothing more than a monster who wrecks the lives of those around her, crushing each heart one by one. Becoming a Medusa of my own making...

The drive up here was peaceful, the bunkhouse with bohemian light features cold but welcoming. I feel empty clinging to anything I can to find something, or someone that can bring me peace...maybe even myself.

I haven't quite met me in a long time, but I have a feeling she likes to draw get lost in magic, and write... write about the world around her through creative prose that means something different to everyone who reads it but has meaning regardless. I also hope she likes to run, and feel strong. Cuddle up in cozy sweaters, and continue to be fueled by spouts of passion. Yes, that person, that side that has been diminished for so long is welcome to take up room, stretch out into every part of my soul and make a home in me, again.

with love,
~ Ell

Home again home again...never again

i rarely post, and I make no apologies. I love you all but inconsistentcy is one of my biggest character deficiencies

...truthfully I hate all of it...I can’t remember the last time I felt unconditionally loved by someone other than her. And that should be more than enough bc in so many ways it is. It’s a love that so many times a day I can fly. Do anything. Be anything. For her.

It’s a love so many of him(s)...okay well one, let’s call him C...demanded...punched the ground by my head when we layed in the floor of my closet in my parents house bc I didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t...give to him....

Can’t say I get the punching the ground part but I get why the support, respect, admiration means so so much. Bc it does....it means so much.

That being said...my heart has never felt so heavy. I miss my brother. I do. With all of me. I miss an easy(ish) relationship with my mom.

I miss care free evenings without a burning scratchy throat...

I miss so much...I’m home sick like a 12 year old who despite their chargrin hates to admit it that they are extremely homesick...homesick for a place that never existed...

Wrote with love and a glass of wine so forgive or don’t all the grammatical errors...


with love,
~ell

Dark and twisty

the darkness is heavy. The light is too much to bright to cheerful to...light. Everything hurts. The pain of being awake is almost more than I can handle. My mind doesn't shut off rather spins constantly as if making the loading hissing sound a mac book makes when it works to hard to load a page. The processor I believe is responsible for that right? Not sure.

But it hurts. The flashbacks hurt. The hope that still lingers in the peripheral hurts. It's hope for the future. Hope to maybe one day find my person who will stay, who will care enough to never leave. God I wish the self destruction wasn't so impossible to fight some days. Can you imagine? The ways in which we could all succeed, but we are stuck, coaxed slowly petrifying in amber, becoming stills in a photo, in a moment, in our own life. Which do you see? The putrefying of comfort or the petrifying of change. It is a dichotomy I live in often, unable to decide one way or another perpetually stuck because momentum is requires movement or choice...and unable to allow myself to retire from the race all together, dreaming in my head, and self destructing on the outside...allows some semblance of  balance while i avoid it all...the pain, the risk, myself... And that expectation to keep it up to keep achieving when we feel often we lucked into our success bc clearly it can't be any fault of our own, but the best way to avoid kicking into that kind of success. Destruct. Like a force of nature, a hurricane and tornado all in one blow sort your life and destruct and make sure your drowning in the damage and self hatred.

Good now take all that damage, and self hatred and use it to fuel your eating disorder. Perfect. You now have a glimpse, albeit a mere fraction of a glimpse, but a glimpse none of the less of what it takes to have an eating disorder.

Feelings: alone, lost, angry, sad, and just so lonely
Days since last purge: zero
Daily weigh in: 112

I hate this

With love,
Ell

after last post...I

After last post...I felt pretty exposed...It hurt a lot. But then this came on my pandora, and honestly it hurt more...The worst line is the most piercing line. But it is to beautiful, everything about it and the memories it holds. Nothing is perfect, nor should it be. Everyone has their issues, but the first time I had this song played to be I realized that those issues are beautiful because it forges  lines like that last one...so as much as that line, this song, and those memories bring me to tears then and now ..I needed to post it. 

Love writes a letter and sends it to Hate:
"My vacation's ending, I'm coming home late
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
And I can't wait to see you again."

Hate reads the letter and throws it away
"No one here cares if you go or you stay
I barely even noticed that you were away
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes
And everyone knows it whenever she flies
And also when she comes down

Hate keeps his head up and walks through these streets
Every stranger and drifter he greets
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
With a serious look on his face

Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow
Carrying with her the good things we know
A reason to live and a reason to grow
To trust and to hold and to care

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car
Without much regard to the moon or the stars
Lazily killing the last of a jar
Of the strongest stuff you can drink

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives
As soon he sees her hope fills his eyes
But tears follow after at the end of the ride
Because he might never see her again

Patience, patience, patience

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive
He screams over the sidewalk and into the drive
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55
And the clock in the kitchen is slow

Love has been waiting patient and kind
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign
That the one that she cares for who's out of his mind
Will make it back safe to her arms

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door
Weary head hung down, eyes to the floor
He says, "Love, I'm sorry, " and she says, "What for?
I'm yours and that's it, whatever
I should not have been gone for so long
I'm yours and that's it, forever
Your mine and that's it, forever"  

with love, 

~ell  

Through all things we are loved

I am so thankful for grace and Christ's love. Through the spinning through the pain. Christ is love. We may not be protected from the consequences of our actions but we are saved from the condemnation. So thankful today