There are moments in my life where I am completely dumbfounded by the fuckery that comes my way. I am not trying to say this with the thought that my life consists of a lot more pain and hurt than most people’s. Yeah, I have Paris Hilton beat on the fuck scale but I don’t want to continue without recognizing that I realize other’s have equally fuckery thrown their way. I digress. I found out my dad has a brain tumor today. This isn’t the first time cancer and Bob have found themselves in the same sentence, he has been sick for a long time now. But brain tumors and my father crying were never things I expected to hear and it was completely heartbreaking. I’m a planner and random life curve balls like this don’t sit well with me. Through EMDR I had the opportunity to process and work through the trauma that his illness has caused my family but since his journey isn’t quite complete, there is a huge wound that is still open when it comes to my father.
Although I have really tried today to be vulnerable and open up about this to my support people today I find myself staring at 4 diet pill bottles, the contents of which I have semi binged through today. I forgot how diet pills make me feel. It’s extraordinarily painful, it gives me jitters, random nose bleeds mostly when I’m sleeping, but it completely allows me to numb out all of the things around me because my body hurts. I don’t have to eat. I don’t have to feel. I don’t have to be the guest of honor to the shit show of today.
I can’t shake off the guilt that is hovering over me. I hate myself for doing this. I never wanted to be looked at with worried eyes. I really thought that I never would buy diet pills again. I never thought I would strive for the pain of hunger. I never thought any of this would happen. I imagined my life being better, I imagined that I wouldn’t hurt people anymore. I pictured myself being a person that people would be proud of. I enjoyed filling the role of somebody to be proud and as I sit here, I see how pathetic I am. I fucking went to rehab. I wasn’t supposed to be the statistic, I was supposed to be that rare find that was one and done with rehab.
I was supposed to be able to do this, I was supposed to be better, smarter, and stronger than this. I strived and failed. Those who have ED’s can relate to the feeling of believing that the only thing they believe they are good at is their eating disorder. I know how to numb and I know how to starve.