Today has not been my best day. I am scared to death right now actually. I feel like I am losing my grip on reality.
I look in the mirror.
"Thiry pounds thirty pounds thirty pounds"
I say it out loud. Thirty pounds.
I am in a public bathroom.
The woman standing next to me looks at me and says "What?"
I say "I've gained thirty pounds."
She says "Oh I know that time of the month can be rough, but trust me you haven't."
I say "No. I truly have gained thirty pounds over the course of the past year."
She says "Oh..my. Well, it certainly doesn't look like it. You could gain another thirty!"
I want to curl up in a ball and hide. I am so sick of this life. I know, I know. The only way out is up. But what do you do when up feels beyond your reach or comprehension - when the new life seems unimaginable and intangible? I know everyone tells me I am stronger and that I deserve more from life than the small, pathetic reapings of my eating disorder. I hear it and I know it. But believing and embracing that knowledge are two different things.
Anorexia's new favorite weapon - "If you were meant to beat this, you would have a long time ago."
I keep trying to force the thought out of my head. Pushing it out, reminding myself that I am older now, I have learned and experienced so much more that could give me the strength to beat this now.
Today it feels like I am threadbare and barely keeping it together. The majorty of this started with some extremely unnecessary commentary from my mother this morning - before breakfast no less. And now the whole day has perpetually gone down hill, my head filling with thoughts about how none of this has been worth the effort because in all honesty - I am still every bit as self-destructive as before, just through new means. I feel like I am the greatest pretender, the greatest liar and like everything about me is false. Maybe its just an identity crisis from moving so far away from my eating disorder. Maybe this is another one of anorexia's last ditch "efforts" to keep me within it's grasp. I don't know. I just wish that I felt like I had something to believe in. I know so many people believe in me, and that makes this all the harder to say. But after everything, I am beginning to find it harder and harder to believe in myself, in my life and my ability to live it. I have so many questions, so many unanswerable questions. I know that I shouldn't let the abstract aspects of life prevent me from moving forward. But at the moment, they are. I keep hoping things will be better when I can go back to school and am no longer confined to the house the majority of the day. but I am petrified things might just get worse.I suppose the bright side here is that at least I'm not drugging myself into oblivion like I would have a year or two ago. That's at least some progress, right?
In short - I am a wreck.
"I've been traveling on this road too long, just trying to find my way back home. The old me is dead and gone, dead and gone."
101.3 has perfect timing.
Why Can I Only Love the Broken?
1 week ago