Sorry for the absence; it’s been a weird and difficult few days.
I guess I should’ve known that my
would bring up all sorts of stuff for me. About inadequacy. Failure. Lost chances. Regrets. Memories. Comparisons.
It’s been tough, I’ll admit. I feel like I shouldn’t feel like this; I know that it’s just a stupid day out of another 365 (leap year this year!), but I can’t help it. Particularly because of the number. A quarter of a century. And what do I have to show for it? A child’s body, but scarred all over from head to toe (literally). I know I look disgusting. But that’s all there is of me.
Beneath the exterior, there’s nothing left.
I am this totally vacuous person, slave to my eating disorder. Even when I’m not directly thinking about it, it effects me, because my cognition is so poor, that I don’t really have any other thoughts. I’m an empty vessel, filled only by my ED. If that were to go, what would be left?
I have no idea.
And that’s one of the big maintaining factors for my ED.
Basically, I still have an ED because I am scared of who I’d be without it. I haven’t been an adult without an ED, I’ve only been a child without one. I’d be a totally new person.
And what would happen to me? I’d have to live somewhere else, get a job, reenter society. Have a life.
And, quite honestly, I don’t want to.
I’m too scared.
Every time that I’ve tried to push away from my ED, I have never had the courage to really do that final push, and jump off that cliff into the abyss, just trusting that it will be all right. Every time that I’ve tried to make changes, there’s been a contingency plan. I have never tried wholeheartedly. Ever. I’ve been through the motions, but inside I wasn’t trying at all. People thought I was, but it wasn’t true. I’m just a very practised liar. People see what I want them to.
So, where does that leave me?
It leaves me with three options:
- Continue as I am, which will eventually mean death.
- Kill myself, because at least it would get it over with.
- Try, and actually try, to do something different.
I hate the world sometimes. (But that’s unfair. It’s not the world’s fault. So, I guess I hate myself).