disgusting voice of anorexia

are you beautiful?
you're not, you're not perfect, you're not good enough, and you dont try hard enough
but its ok, i understand you, trust me, let me help you to change all of that.
lets start with the obvious, just look in the mirror, do i have to tell you that you have to get rid of that disgusting body? i can help you! i promise! we will become great friends.
it will start slowly, reading nutrition labels, decreasing your fat intake, eating and feeling guilty.
you're not allowed to eat much.
for a while the exercise will be simple, but it wont be long before i tell you it isnt good enough, i will PUSH YOU TO THE LIMIT.
pretty soon i will always be with you, the numbers become both friend and enemy
dont forget, there will always be at least some fat there
i will be there when you figure out the plan for the day, i'm the one figuring this out because by now i follow you throughout the day.
when meal time comes around, i will tell you what to do.
you will cheat and lie to your friends and family because they disturb our close relationship.
 i will show you only the flesh that seperates you from me.
but you must not know this, because if you knew the truth, you might start to eat again.
and we would come crashing down.
 i know you will rebel, your eyes will move over the tempting poison
you'll find your hands reaching out for it like a nightmare
you shove it all in mechanically, not tasting and all the time i'm screaming at you to
STOP YOU FAT COW! you really have no self control! you're going to get fat!
when its over, you'll cling to me again and ask me for advice.
i force you without a great deal of strain to get rid of the guilt.
 but no one will notice. you pretend and play this perfect game.
its our little secret.
oh is this harsh? do you not want this to happen to you? am i unfair?
 i do do things that will help you.
i make it possible for you to stop thinking about emotions and i feel your head with......me.
i am your only instrument to express anything from the past that you're not even aware of.
i will give you feelings of strength, willpower, and control.
i will always be there when you need me.
i will give you hope of achieving perfection and purity.
 i will make you believe that you can fly away from everything.
but you must not tell anyone! if you decide to fight back, all hell will break loose!
 because you need me to survive.
once i have settled down in your mind it is hard to get rid of me.

 yes this is me...

 i will always lurk in some dark corner of your mind. its a love/hate relationship.

mannequins promote unhealthy body image

As i was walking through the mall alone last night, i seemed to be more aware of the mannequins. although i dont think these deserve to be called "mannequins" because well they dont model what people look like in clothes, unless of course you have a severe eating disorder and have gotten to the point of emmaciation. and even then, a lot of people with eating disorders dont reach the state of emmaciation. i go shopping all the time and i am constantly seeing these mannequins but for some reason, they jumped out at me last night. maybe its because i was shopping alone and was more stuck in my head, or maybe its the fact that i know i am entering treatment in the near future and still have that huge fear that i will be the largest one there. whatever the reason it is, it doesn't matter. alll that matters is that these mannequins do not promote a healthy body image, or anything any women should strive to become. it makes you believe that you dont deserve to wear those clothes unless you look like those stick pieces of hard, cold plastic. for me last night, what stuck out was their legs. i kept looking at them in awe and jealousy. I then immediatly transformed these feelings into self-hate, disgust that i didn't feel my legs looked like this. disgust with how much fat i think my thighs contain. which of course gives my eating disorder the power to scream at me and rip me apart piece by piece. unfortunately, we live in  society where image has become everything and it has become hard to live without seeing the constant reminders of our "flaws." They are thrown in our face everywhere we turn. this especially effects us women. we are constantly at odds with ourselves over how we look vs. how the world around us says we should look. mannequins have given young girls and even women a false idea that these are the 'perfect' woman and cause them to strive for an unrealistic and often an unattainable goal which leads to self hate and even severe, and deadly eating disorders. mannequins are meant to give shoppers a general sense of what a store's clothes might look like on a human body. but they do not fulfill their purpose cause only an extremely small percentage actually look at these pieces of plastic junk.

these mannequins aren't the only thing that bothered me. another thing that stuck out to me was the term "skinny jeans" its forcing women to access whether they are, in fact, "skinny" enough to wear those pants. i can't tell you how many people i know have claimed that they cant wear skinny jeans because they dont think they are thin enough, me being one of them.

maybe i am overreacting over all of this because of my eating disorder and the fact that i want to prevent as many people as i can from developing one. but honestly, i think i am being perfectly reasonable. i wish so badly that the media would take their eyes of the womens body and their flaws and what we should look like. we have become bait in this crazy world.

do you ever have a new favorite song that you can play 50 times in a day and still not get sick of? well i have one right now, actually its been a favorite for the past 2 weeks or so. it is called "need you now" by plumb

i think the reason i love it so much is because the lyrics resinate so much with what i am feeling and going through right now. everytime i hear it, i just want to burst into tears, it causes me to feel so vulnerable. here are the lyrics:

Well, everybody's got a story to tell
And everybody's got a wound to be healed
I want to believe there's beauty here
'Cause oh, I get so tired of holding on
I can't let go, I can't move on
I want to believe there's meaning here

How many times have you heard me cry out
"God please take this"?
How many times have you given me strength to
Just keep breathing?
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.

Standing on a road I didn't plan
Wondering how I got to where I am
I'm trying to hear that still small voice
I'm trying to hear above the noise

How many times have you heard me cry out
"God please take this"?
How many times have you given me strength to
Just keep breathing?
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.

Though I walk,
Though I walk through the shadows
And I, I am so afraid
Please stay, please stay right beside me
With every single step I take

How many times have you heard me cry out?
And how many times have you given me strength?

How many times have you heard me cry out
"God please take this"?
How many times have you given me strength to
Just keep breathing?
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.

I need you now
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.
I need you now
I need you now

i hate to admit this, but  sometimes i almost get angry with God, angry that he allows me or anyone else to have an eating disorder. why he allows us to be in so much pain and misery both physically and mentally.  i do know through this struggle that i have definatly grown closer to God, but couldn't he have done this through a different way? a less painful way? i know i am silent, but what i am doing to myself is basically me screaming out for this to all just be taking away. not only the eating disorder, but the self-hate, the depression, the dissatisfaction my family has with me, there is just one long list but the top thing is for the eating disorder to be taking away. or least for God to provide a way out. i am at a point in my life where i feel like the only way out is death. a lot of the time i am silently waiting for the eating disorder to just take me. i know that sound messed up and the so called "easy way out" but ive been trying the "hard way out" for years and its not working. as the days go on i just feel like i am falling more and more into the trap of my eating disorder, and i didnt think that could ever be possible.  does God not hear my cries, does God not see the pain i am in? am i not worthy to be saved or free from this prison? i am not saying i am gonna give up on recovery but it is soo tempting to just throw in the towel and say screw it. i just am feeling so depressed and lost tonight. i just want to feel happy and normal in life again, i cant remeber ever feeling like that. this is how long it has been.

sorry if this post was negative but hey-this is the real me, take it or leave it.

slowly slipping away...

i can feel myself slipping away, i can feel "Bekah" disappearing into the backwards, twisted, upside down world. i have a barrier as thin as the glass of a mirror, and i never come all the way out of the mirror. i stand for the rest of my life with one foot in this world, and no one in another. there will always be an odd distance between me and the "normal people." Everything is just upside down, backwards, and disgusting. i am constantly locked in my brain, and that isnt exactly the safest place to be locked in right now, or maybe even ever.

its almost like i don't know any different. and when after 8 years of starving, barfing, continuous exercise, needles being forced into my veins, tubes being forced down my nose, monitors attached to my ice cold skin, terror, rage, medical crisis, personal failure and loss after loss. when after this, you are 20 and staring down a vastly abbreviated life expectancy, and the eating disorder still takes up half your body, half your brain, or even more with its invisible eroding force. when you have spent the majority of your life sick, when you do not yet know what it means to be "well" or "normal," when you doubt these words even have meaning anymore, there are still no answers. you will die young and you have no way to make sense of that fact, you have this: you can be thin. but is that what i really want to be remembered for ?? at my funeral do i want the only thing people to say "well she was able to control her weight." in the long run, that is not what i want to be remembered for.

anorexia tells me everyday that i am in control, this is what i want, this is who i am. but sometimes when i am in my rational mind (which isn't quite often) i can dissect it, try and "reality check it" as those fancy clinicians like to call it. refusing to eat, putting my body into starvation mode, which is hurting me, and being thinner, so thin that people notice i am underweight and being told left and right i need to gain weight is what make me who i am.  i think if i gain a pound, everyone is going to notice and they will hate me even more, I'll lose my identity, but the danger in that is that my identity is resting on a little tiny point and anything can change that and threaten to make me lose what i think is my identity.  the greatest thing i can do in life is NOT to prove to the world that i am able to get thin. i want to be thought about and regarded for WHO I REALLY AM. even if i may not know who that is. but i guess that's what life is about right? figuring out who you are, creating an image for yourself? at least this is what i have been told. i am told constantly that i was placed on this earth for a purpose. i believe this about everyone else, but am having such a hard time believing that i fit into this category. i don't know why i think i am the one exception to this vast world of people. i do not want the reason that i was placed on this earth to starve myself to death, who wants to be remembered for that? i want to change peoples lives, i want to make a difference. i have an entire list of things that i want to do. but one thing is holding me back. my ridiculous distorted fears of being "fat" or gaining weight, or giving up what i have known for so long. but giving up this one fear could unlock 100 more positive things that i am missing out on life because of a silly irrational fear. moment by moment, i have to try and convince myself to take that leap of faith into the unknown.

stuck in the mud

do you ever feel like you just got smacked across the face with a hand called life? Not the things that you DO in life, but the things that you DON'T accomplish? well i hope you haven't. i experience  it quite often, and today was a major slap across the face.

i had the most amazing weekend this weekend, the best i have had in years and years. Part of it was because i had 2 of my great friends over from treatment, and the other part was because i actually was able to experience what freedom and independence REALLY feels like.  i guess you could argue that i do have some form of independence because i live on my own. but it certainly does not feel that way. i do live on my own, but i live between these four walls almost 24/7 and in constant isolation.

i have lost all friends, i cant work, i cant go to school, and i do not have a car all because of how out of control i let my anorexia get. This past weekend, i got a taste of what it is like to be so called "normal," (whatever that means). i was an average 20 year old, i drove a car, left my apartment when i was bored, went shopping when i wanted, went for a drive when i wanted, and was able to pick up food and other things i need for my house when needed. so many of us take these things for granted, including me. i became so comfortable in being isolated in my apartment that it was almost terrifying to sit in the drivers seat and make a decision of what to do and where to go. For so many years, it was always others doing this for me because others deemed me incapable of doing these simple life tasks. But not this weekend, this weekend i was a vibrant, and typical 20 year old girl.

but the only reason i was able to be that girl was because of my friend renting a car when she flew in, now that she is gone, i feel myself slipping back into my depression and isolation at a very rapid pace. i mean it is not ALL because of me not having a car, sure its a HUGE part of it, but also because it made me realize how stuck i am. i feel like my life has been on the pause button since the age of 12, the age i was diagnosed with the stupid eating disorder. i wish i had a remote to my life that i could rewind and start and never have to pause because of a damn eating disorder. but i cant, and now i just feel like my body is sinking deeper and deeper into the quick sand. i am up to my neck, just centimeters away from it covering my mouth.the world continues to spin on its axis and people continue about their daily routines as i sit in my apartment rotting and starving to death. i stare out the windows to the beautiful world wondering if i will ever be able to enjoy, or allow myself to enjoy the wonders of it. you want to know one of my biggest fears? being stuck like this
F O R E V E R.....

another year

Another year of my life has gone by. Most people like to look back on their year and remember all of their positive memories. I look back at my year with regret. the only memories i have are memories being tortured in hospitals and treatment centers. I always hate that famous question everybody seems to ask when it is your birthday. for me this year it was; "how does it feel to be 20?" Now how is anyone expected to answer that question? it is just another day like all the other days of the year, only that day is supposed to be devoted to you i suppose. I do not feel any older, or any wiser. although others would argue that because they are a whole year older, they are a  completely different human being. Now if that is true, i would like the magic potion to make that come true for myself. i would have loved to wake up on my birthday and be rid of this awful eating disorder. instead, on the 16th i woke up with dread. dread that i wasted a whole other year on foolishness and mind games. but you see, in the moment it doesn't seem that way. in the moment when i am starving or exercising or purging, i don't realize i am wasting away such precious days. or the fact that i am actually leading myself to an early grave. most of the time i do not notice or pay attention to what i am doing. it just comes second nature. it is a part of who i am. i am not proud of this part of me though. or there are few times when i know what i am doing, but cant stop because it feels so good to see that number on the scale go down, or for my clothes to become bigger on me.  and then there's the rest of the times, which is the majority of the time that i curse the eating disorder. i curse ana for grabbing control of me. i try to pry away her bony long fingers and sharp nails away from my throat as she strangles me. but it doesn't work, or at least it hasn't yet. She has become attached to me. She feels like the only thing that allows me to cope with this hell called "life." Yet in reality, the exact opposite is being done to me. she isn't providing me with the tools to grow into a person, she is like a weed sucking all of the sunlight and water for herself so i dwindle away. I keep falling into her trap because of the promises she comforts me with. but it has been 8 years with her, and not one of her promises has come true, well except for the promise of making me thin. But the thing is, i don't see this, i see fat. i see a 20 year old who needs so much work done on her that she is hopeless.

i feel dread when it comes to thinking about my 20th year. will i spend it like my last 8 years with this eating disorder? or will this year be different? i so badly want it to be different. but wanting it to be different, and it actually being different are two different stories. i can write the story i want for myself, but will this story be published?

who am i?

it is a Friday morning, i am standing barefoot on the cold tiled floor of my bathroom after stepping on and off the scale at least 10 times. it is stormy and miserable out, but this storm doesn't compare to the storm inside of me. i grip the edge of the sink to hold my balance from the dizziness. i then start to lean in to stare closer at the girl looking back at me in the mirror. i do not have the slightest idea of who she is. her eyes are empty and hollow; no speck of hope or life. i no longer recognize myself. i slowly ease my way to the tiled floor, curl my knees up to my chest and sob. "what have i become?"

i get asked all the time "who is Bekah?" i do not know the answer to this question, but really wish that i did. maybe in time i will get to know her, or she will become less hidden under the monster i call my eating disorder. the eating disorder has consumed every part of my life, including my identity. it changed the way that I related to those around me. It dictates my feelings and choices. It influences so many aspects of my life that I do not even know what I do or do not like anymore. The eating disorder is an ever present voice in my head that dictates my every move. but i am sick and tired of it, sick and tired of being sick and tired.......

you have control over it..... do i?

whenever my eating disorder is brought up in any kind of discussion, the words "well you know you have control over it" always seems to lurk its way into the conversation. This has to probably be one of the comments that pisses me off the most. It usually comes from people who have never even dealt with an eating disorder. i do agree in the beginning we do have control, but the more and more that we get swept into the eating disorder, the control quickly dwindles away. ed has control, i do not.

i feel like when "I" wake up in the morning, it is not really me. the moment i open my eyelids, ed is screaming in my ear telling me exactly what needs to be done. ed tells me what to wear, where to go, who to talk to, when to sleep, when to eat or not to eat, when to purge, when to exercise, when to abuse laxatives and diet pills. At first, i thought i was the one telling myself to do these things, and quite possibly it was me. but not anymore.
 i feel like a monster, or maybe that there is just a monster inside of me.Its the secret side of me that i don't let people see.  i try to keep it locked up and caged but i cant control it. its hiding under my bed, in my body, and in my head. i know he tears me up and breaks me down but i cant make it end.

  you don't realize how out of control you truly are until you are lying on the ground with your head pounding and body shaking after passing out cold from the malnutrition your body becomes to know quite well. you wonder to yourself, how did i let it get this bad? i remember starting and not even knowing what an eating disorder was, now its destroying me.

People also try and use the guilt-trip on me saying at least i don't have cancer, that they do not have a choice what happens to them. this sounds sick and twisted, but sometimes i wish i where battling cancer and not an eating disorder. with an eating disorder i deal with the mental exhaustion and the physical exhaustion.the tormenting thoughts that lead me to the slow physical deterioration that i don't even realize is happening. and i did not CHOSE to have an eating disorder, i did not wake up one more morning and say "hmm i think i am going to starve myself and become anorexic." it just doesn't work like that.  those with eating disorders are actually being controlled by the disorder, not the other way around.we  find themselves constantly confronted by the fact that we have wrapped our lives around food and our body image, and we are actually a prisoner to our disorder.

"your keys weigh more than you do!"

My apartment complex has a free gym to all those who live there. A blessing for most people, yet a curse for me. Not to mention i am the closest building to the clubhouse, so its extra tempting.

this afternoon, i gave into the eating disorder thoughts and walk into the clubhouse to the gym. I stroll up to the desk where i must sign in, and before a hello, or how are you, the lady says to me while chuckling "YOUR KEYS AROUND YOUR NECK WEIGH MORE THAN YOU DO!"

now how do you respond to a comment like this? Well for me, anytime i am nervous i just laugh, so that is what i proceeded to do.  i continue to sign my name and address on the list with shaking hands as i can feel her scanning my body up and down. i quickly place the pen back down and briskly walk into the gym and close the clear glass door behind me.

after i drop off my jacket and keys on the hanger, i then walk to the wall full of mirrors and begin picking apart my body. i kept thinking to myself "what the hell is she talking about? is she blind? look at all of this fat!" Yet at the same time i become angry. angry that all anyone ever notices now a days is someone's body shape.

A million other thoughts start to flood my mind as i push myself on the elliptical, "does she know i have an eating disorder, is that why she made that comment to make me feel better? wait, there's no way she could know i have an eating disorder... or maybe someone has told her? Well i don't talk to anyone at this apartment complex, was she just being nice? was she trying to convince me not to work out so i would grow fatter to make her feel better about herself? a constant battle plays in my mind the entire while at the gym. i stare at my body in the dreaded mirrors as i go up and down on the elliptical, then peddling on the bike, then crunches, then the treadmill, then the leg machine. by the time i step out of the gym it is 2 hours later, and shift has changed. the man at the desk is having a conversation with someone, i pick up the pen and quickly sign the time out and run for the door. i walk into my apartment door, close the door behind me and fall to the ground with tears and exhaustion flooding me. i cant handle these battles in my head anymore, i cant handle the exhaustion and weakness i feel everyday, i cant handle feeling like i cannot stand because i am going to pass out after pushing myself at the gym.

physical effects

the physical effects of an eating disorder are probably perhaps the worst effects, and man am i feeling them. i think during my rehearsal schedule they where masked through all of the adrenaline. or maybe its because of how horrid my eating habits have been the past week, worse then normal which is quite frightening. my behaviors are completely out of control more so than it has been since i have been home these past few months. my body is feeling them sharp and hard. passing out has become a regular occurrence, in fact has happened twice today. constant chest pain, feeling to weak to even stand up, yet forcing my body to workout to rid myself of the unwanted flesh. i find it hard to even type this blog post because my hands are shaking like an elderly person with Parkinson's disease. my head is pounding, and anytime i stand up in an upright position the room grows dark and i quickly have to sit before my body forces me to lay down involuntarily. how am i supposed to find the energy that needs to be put in my recovery. the energy to fight the unwanted thoughts and negative self-talk? i feel like i do not even have the energy to motion my hand to my mouth to consume anything. does my body even have the energy to digest anything? or will it just sit inside of me and turn straight to fat?

no body ever understands why i have little energy, i literally have no physical or emotional energy, and people judge. they don't care to learn more, they deem us as lazy, or self-centered because we are "too focused on our appearance." the fixation on our appearance is just the tip of the iceberg, maybe we focus on that because we do not want others to see what is really deep down inside of us. or maybe its because WE OURSELVES don't want to face the trauma, abuse, negative talk inside of us. it just becomes easier to focus on the outside than the dark twisty inner self. but this fixation on our bodies is literally killing us, slowly but surely...and i am feeling it.

 a friend messaged me this question....

how often do you make promises to yourself that you don’t keep?

for me, I know how awful it feels when you are using the eating disorder behaviors – the restricting,  purging,exercising, and  laxative abuse,  – and feel so sick and disgusting and swear to yourself up and down that “I’m done!” and, “I’ll never do that again!” only to find yourself doing it the very next day (or sometimes even sooner)!
So how do you get past it and learn to keep those promises and take forward motion steps in your eating disorder recovery?

i always tell myself that tomorrow will be different, tomorrow i will succeed, yet tomorrow never comes. and honestly, for us who have eating disorders, there may not be a tomorrow, if we keep going on everyday like this, it could be too late.  Yet i find it so hard to believe this, and i know a lot of other ed people do as well. i never think i am "sick enough" to die, so in my mind, there will always be a tomorrow, and i can put full force in my recovery tomorrow.

that "tomorrow" has now become 8 years later. truth behold if i continue going on like this, will there be another 8 years, or even another year? Sure in the moment i can ask myself this, but maybe in another 5 minutes ill be back into my same mindset of "not being sick or thin enough" to even question if i will be around in a year. 

People with eating disorders aren't the only people that take waking up the next morning for granted. we all go to bed every night expecting to wake up to the sunrise and go on with another day of our lives. But the reality is, life can be so unexpected at times. You never know when it truly will be your last day, freak accidents happen all of the time, yet we are all to ignorant to believe that they can and will happen to us.

how about instead of living for tomorrow, we live for today and make changes TODAY??

Let go and let God

a few days ago, at one of my therapy sessions, it ended with the phrase "Let go and let God."

sounds like an easy concept right? i mean i guess in some ways it can be, but not always. especially when you are being asked to let go of the one thing you have control over in your life, food and your weight. or well i guess it would just be easier to say my eating disorder.

it is not that i am trying to control the world, just my world, my little screwed up dark and twisty world. 

i have always wanted control over something in my life. i never had control over anything growing up, my parent have always been over-bearing and demanding. i didnt even get to control what i ate,

If I were with my dad alone, I was never allowed to eat what the other kids called “fun foods.” He would refer it to as poison being released into my body. As a little girl this frightened me, but I still had that craving for the sugary, artificially made foods. Whenever I was able to get my little innocent hands on any of this, I would savor it. Eat it as slow as I could and always have extra that I could hide in my bedroom and save for later. I knew that having a chance to have these kinds of foods was rare. Perhaps more rare than winning the lottery.

              

  My father always forced me to eat the food I didn’t like, or didn’t want. I felt completely and utterly powerless over everything in my life. Even something as miniscule as food. I slowly learned to hate the foods my dad would force me to eat.  or maybe id trick myself into thinking I hated them so I could gain back control, find some way to be independent, not just a robot doing what her master asks her to do.

              

  I believe my mother had an obsession with food in different ways. I starve; she eats everything in sight, plus more. My brother, sister and I always had to keep a close watch on our food at restaurants or even at home. If we were out to eat (which my mother enjoyed to do quite often) she wouldn’t only complete her 2 burgers, 2 large fries, soda, and mcflurry, she would start eating our happy meals as well. It was almost like living in the jungle with other species where you had to fight for your food to survive.

               

 Now I am not saying my mother starved me, because by no means did she. I was just always afraid I would never have food for myself. Any food or goodies I received, I would also hide in my room to keep my mom from eating it. Even if it was something I didn’t enjoy the taste of, it was still hidden in my secret stash. I kept changing the location of this secret stash due to fear of my mom finding its location. Often, I forgot I even had this secret treasure box, but knowing I did made me feel much more safe and secure.

eventually i learned that my parents couldnt force feed me, they couldnt physically shove a spoonful of food down my throat. so this is how i started grasping control in my life. along with losing weight. my mom was overweight because she controlled it by over-eating. i could control my weight by undereating and be who i wanted to me. 

after 8 years of this being entrenched into your mind, it is hard to just "Let go and let God." believe me i do, more than anything i want to toss my eating disorder out the window. but if i do that, if i let go of control, will God make me obese ? or fatter than i already am? my life will feel so much more out of control, i will lose the ONE THING that is mine, that i can manipulate. 

yet it is a catch 22- because the one thing i feel like i have control of, in reality i dont. the eating disorder controls ME i dont control IT. 

its a constant battle in my mind. but i decided to take my therapist up on the offer to write this phrase around my apartment....lets see how it turns out.....

addiction

have any of you heard the song Everybody talks ? i am not quite sure who sings it, but i know whenever i am in the car with a friend, and they turn kiss 108 on, that song always seems to come on. why that song? and why is the first line always stuck inside of my head???

the song opens with "hey baby won't you look this way i can be your new addiction."

my first thought that pops into my head is ANA. this is how ana snuck into the riddle. maybe? maybe not?

i mean in the beginning, i didn't know what i was doing, or what i was getting myself into. that simple word DIET seemed the answer to all of my problems, the answer to my self hatred, my depression, my anxiety, to curing my trauma. i didn't know it would literally turn into an addiction. an addiction to starving myself.

i didn't crave drugs, or alcohol i craved hunger, the feeling of being empty. which i now see is pretty counterproductive considering i hate feeling empty emotionally. i hate feeling alone and lost and like i am just a disease covered with the shell of a human being.

it became more than about how i look, it is my only way out. yet at the same time, it causes more problems each and every day. because of that, i hate getting out of bed, i never want to get out of bed, it is torture for me. all day i loo forward to go to bed and just sleep my life away. every night i go to sleep and secretly hope that this is the night my heart will stop like all my doctors tell me will happen.

i hate feeling that way. i want to feel happy and believe i have a purpose to life. i want to live out God's purpose for me. it just seems impossible....

i step out of those locked doors of safety into my terrifying eating disordered world. while there i hated it more than i could ever thought. but once i left the people protecting me from my eating disorder, i broke into tears of fear. tears of going through that pain again. fear of physical and mental pain, fears of being alone, fears of the world in general. i was there for 2 months, 2 months i hated. but when it was time to go, a sense of sadness filled my heart. what if my eating disorder takes more control again, what if it makes me take laxatives until i vomit, or starve myself until i pass out, or exercise until i am going to fall to pieces? what if my anorexia kills me? in some ways, i wished it would, because living with the disease is more painful then dying. this is what filled my mind the day leading up to discharge.

this time in treatment was a very hard road medically. i was on bedrest pretty much the entire time, 6 out of the 8 weeks i was there. i couldnt stand up without blacking out and hitting my head. my heart was acting out on me, and blood pressure so extremely low, although its normally low, but this was deathly low. my suicidal thoughts grew more and more itense. i just wanted to be dead. everything would be so much easier. i'd pray to god everynight to just take me, that i didnt want to wake up to face another day, another day with the anorexia.

now that i am home, not much has changed, i do feel a little less depressed, and happy to be with my boyfriend. physically i am not doing well, still passing out and having no energy. today, i am going to have another NG tube placed. i am scared, dont want to gain anymore weight, dont want the stares when i am walking down the street, dont want the questions as to what that tube in my nose is. i just want to f a d e  a w a y  to  n o t h i n g.......