I have an inner monologue of what I need to write in this blog constantly. I have toyed with the idea of writing a dairy of what a day in the life with an eating disorder is like but have come to the conclusion that it would be very repetitive and depressing to those who take the time to read my confusing thoughts. Once again, I sit in front of my computer with a blank slate of what I should be writing. Here we go.

I hate myself. A very general statement that has an immense impact on my life. The hate that I have is different than it used to be, the days of loathing my personality and my appearance used to just seem simple now is so much more complex. I try to be perfect in all I do, I am insanely controlling but I hide it behind a rehearsed smile to come off as a pleasant person and it truly rocks me that there is something that I need to do and I just can’t. I go to my coping mechanism for my mistakes, starving and purging to tightly compress any emotion and fit it perfectly in a box, naively hoping that as I walk away from feelings they won’t come back and bite me in the ass. Yes, stupidity fits me well.

The one element of my life that I truly wish to change is my inability to talk to people. Not small talk or bland conversation, I have that shit on lock. I am talking about vulnerability. I can write until my fingers fall off in my journal and on my blog but when it comes to face to face, I lack the ability to tell someone how I am feeling. I tense up around people and I become numb to anything and everything going on my life. I can’t say it. I can’t even think about it expressing my emotions. I can write on here that I haven’t eaten in a day, I can type paragraphs about how I spend hours looking in my reflections in tears hoping to God that when I wake up tomorrow I will have the slimmer figure that I so desperately want and I can take you on a journey through my words about my thought process when someone includes words like “bigger” and “fat” in their vocabulary. I can do that without hesitation but I can’t go to someone and say “Hey, I just spent an hour purging”.

I want to purge something besides food. Purging is purposely having a desire of feeling empty and you make yourself feel like there is nothing left. I want to do that with this situation I am in. I want to purge the words I want to speak and not write. I want to purge this fakeness that I can’t shake off. I want it gone and I want to feel empty instead of completely full of self doubt and anger. It’s killing me.

I’m hungry and I want food. I want to stop drinking diet soda and start trying to live. I am so angry at myself and so frustrated and my pathetic attempt to reach out. No, I am not relapsing and this is a lapse, but for once I want to say it with a purpose and not as if my recovery doesn’t matter. I want to be a person who can be happy or sad and show it.


One response »

  1. It is so nice to know I’m not alone! I can journal for days, but can’t say any of it to my therapist. And I say to myself “how pathetic is that”… But maybe it’s not so pathetic if I’m not alone

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