You see, I dont have to eat a goddamned thing if I dont want to.This decision is mine. My health and my body are mine. They are in my control. I am tired. I am tired of being fat, of feeling ugly, of living in this house, of living without control and most of all, I am tired of feeling alone, lesser than, unworthy. And I do. I feel like that every damn day. It is not a constant feeling. There are brief lapses of minutes, hours, sometimes if I am lucky, days. Lapses where I do not look in the mirror and despise the person, the body that I see in front of me. I have not been able to understand why this happens. I can not capture whatever it is that makes me see something differently, if only for a second.
And then there is the rest, or majority of the time. I crave, almost beg to be around others. I do not feel that I deserve the friendship of others. I do not feel that I am a good enough person to deserve the friendship of decent human beings. Why? Because nearly every experience I have had thus far has led me to believe that I deserve the shit that I come into contact with. Be it: emotionally abusive relationships, being sent away at 14, being cheated on, being screwed over by entire school systems, being pulled and manipulated, self mutilation or an eating disorder (which are one in the same.) But hear this; it is not a "poor me" type situation because I believe I truly deserved these things. Most of them I feel I brought on myself.
So how does this relate to my eating? Well, I do not have the power to control others, unfortunately. Hah. I do not have the ability to see the future to prepare myself for unfortunate events. What I do have control over seems few and far between. I will be moving out soon so my control over things will increase. But right now as well as the last few years; minus the time I was in treatment; I have had control over what does or does not go into my mouth. There was a period of time where I was eating 300-400 calories a day. And I felt like everything in the world was in my control. The immediate time leading up to my entering the Center was an out of control time. Bulimia is a very out of control feeling. But, I believe malnutrition drove my impulsive and delusional self.
Today I sit here, feeling totally alone, contemplating the affectiveness of starvation. I have seen it work before. On me, on others. At this time in my life I definitely feel a loss of control. Everyone I care about the most is unable or unwilling to be around. I am about to enter college with a bunch of people I do not know. I, as proven lately, do not have control over the number on the scale. And that, more than anything, is driving me crazy. The self-hatred I feel for myself and my body seems to be rising at an alarming rate. I know that this feeling comes and goes. It is a cyclical thing for most individuals. But most people can reason themselves out of it, tell themselves they are good, deserving people. I cant even wear a size 6, I dont deserve a damn thing.
I dont remember ever weighing this much in my entire life. Or if i did, it was quickly tamed by anorexia. Even with as sick as I became, I still miss it. The journey of losing extreme amounts of weight is an exciting one, especially to someone who craves control as much as I do. During the time of being in my lower weight range I can honestly say that I enjoyed my body. I loved being that small. Which makes it even harder to be as big as I am now. I loved being able to wear whatever I wanted. I loved being smaller than my younger sister, being carried around, feeling like I had accomplished some great human feat. Now, I realize, this all plays directly into my self loathing as my weight increases. And what seems to be the even bigger problem, I cant do anything about it. I exercise, I eat less, and my weight either increases or stays the same.
Originally, I did not know what I was doing in terms of my eating disorder. I never imagined that I would end up looking, acting and feeling the way I did. I never imagined I would spend my senior year of high school in a treatment facility. Never. Now, self-awareness is what makes self-destruction so difficult. I know what I am doing, I know what could happen. But, it is currently very difficult for me to say that is not what I want. Right now, that is exactly what I want. Control in the form of starvation and bones. All I want is to extend that lapse time in which I do not despise myself.
If I were my own therapist, I would say "Emily, what is it that you are avoiding by using food as a coping mechanism. What problems are you unwilling to face. What is really going on. Because, you know, food and weight are not the real issues."
Well, right now they are. I am fat. I am ugly. I am going to the lake in four days and start college in fifteen. And as for the other issues, my therapist and friend is sick, out of town, and I havent seen her in a three weeks. My "best friend" is an unreliable flake and has not called in over a week. My ex and the one person I actually want to spend time around wont give me the time of day. Others I care about are moving away to their college lives. No wonder I feel alone and unworthy.
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