My heart is racing, every breath feels like my last one and I am doing the best I can wiping the tears out of the corners of my eyes so I can remain looking normal and put together to my friend. She doesn’t see it, to be fair, most people don’t. I can’t do a lot of things but I’m a pro at faking it. Every so often I see her head turn towards me and smile when something comical happens on this shit of a movie that we are watching. I give a fake laugh and smile back. She doesn’t see it and I refuse to let her.
Having a private panic attack while I sit here and type are not the most proactive things I could be doing but yet here I am. I am completely paralyzed by fear. Fear of gaining weight, fear of people’s perceptions on me, fear that I am a disappointment to everyone, fear that every negative affirmation that I tell myself is true, fear of taking the xanax I need will make me hungry, fear of anything. This never-ending list of fears just keeps playing over and over in my head and I can’t stop it. As much as I try to think differently, I can’t help but believe that I am truly a horrible person who doesn’t deserve happiness unless I am 88 pounds.
There is a sickness in my thoughts as I sit here, missing the bones being visible on my body. I miss being able to bend over and seeing every bone in my back. I miss the valleys between my hipbones and looking at the absence of weight as a trophy dedicated to dying. I used to look at the thinnest time in my life with fear of going back. Unimaginable consequences, losing everything again, going back to treatment and letting down the people that love me. Right now, I miss my frail body. I miss living by the motto of you are what you eat. This philosophy allows me create a lifestyle around eating nothing so I can become the nothing that I long to be. I want to be plunged back into Anorexia so deep that I am Deaf and blind to the world around me. I want it back.