It was all in my head. I actually made myself believe everything was going to be perfect, great and at ease. I know I shouldn't have expected that at all since it’s only been a few days on medication, but I did and was let down. Well I can say that I’m better then I was before, but there is something totally new, a new feeling. I thought I have experienced this “feeling” before but I guess not. That rainbow I thought I had was an illusion; it was only the mist of the storm. The storm may have stopped raining but it hasn't completely vanished yet, if you know what I mean. As for what that new feeling is emptiness, loneliness, and constant unreal/numb aura that I carry with me. I would have rather felt whatever it was before any medication has become involved in my life because I was able to control parts of what was wrong maybe not the best way, at least it made me alive, but now I have no idea. Like now that I have started medication it has blocked a part of me that I can’t find/reach, it’s really weird. In my mind there is that empty feeling because it’s cleared out, gone, disappeared; I don’t quite know how this happened or to explain this with making sense. When I let my mind wonder there is a wave of confusion that overlooks everything I was thinking about. Like it’s that nagging check up on how I’m supposed to feel, like I usually don’t know what I’m really feeling anymore, so I always ask myself am I happy, sad, anxious, amused, thankful, relieved or frustrated? I have no idea it’s like I’m physically there but not mentally. I don’t understand this. I’m so out of place, I mean I've always felt that way but now I feel like that way in my safe space, which is so hard because that was my safe place, the place where I’m in tuned with myself and comfortable but now it’s awkward and unfamiliar. This is legitimately scary but that is not the only difficult struggle, the hardest challenge is that empty, nothingness and lonely feeling is trying to figure out who I am, and what my purpose is. I have no idea where and who I am, I have completely lost myself and in desperate of need of help.
Where do I go from here?
I have no idea what life is anymore. All it is going through struggles and problems with people who come in and out of your life. And those people who just come in and out have the biggest impact on how you behave and view perspectives of your pathetic so called “life”. Every day I only go through struggles, and with seldom happiness. But who cares, it only shows that my life is like walking on shattered glass with bare feet. It is so painful obviously that you might as well end the bleeding, and suffering with losing yourself. Losing yourself is so easy because all your really doing is making yourself disappear from your friends, family, acquiesces, strangers, anyone you’ve ever encountered and the world it’s self. Yes, I am capable of doing this but yet something has to hold me back. Could it be the little voices in my head? Or is it because I can’t just leave without an explanation? Maybe it is because I am so desperate in need of help that I pray and crave that someone out there waiting for me to ask. Or is possibly I know that I am just going to put everyone I love and care for in so much pain that they will hate me deep inside for doing this to them? I don’t actually know why I can just get the deed done. I am so lost that I don’t actually believe in faith and hope… So, now I always wonder is there really a future out there for me? I’m not sure but part of me wants to know what that there is and wants to work towards it and reach whatever it is waiting there for me. As for the other part of me just wants to give up and just throw away everything I have ever done and ever wanted or dreamed of. Anyways, as for my so called life I am known as a freak, weirdo, silent, ugly, nerd, emo, attention whore, dumbass, slutty wannabe, annoyingly loud, anxious, bitch at school. I agree with the anxious, silent, freak names people have called me. Because I am a freak but I am also oh so silent. But the anxious part is too real for me; I am anxious, overly anxious, and so anxious that I get panic attacks. Yes, panic attacks you know the ones where you can’t catch your breath and pant so much where tears burn through your eyes, the ones where you shake uncontrollably with every part of your body, the ones where you get so over heated where you sweat worst then running in your winter clothes in the blazing hot sun all day, the ones where your heart beats so fast and so hard where it feels like your rib cage is going to burst. Yup that’s me the girl who can’t even control any part of herself. How embarrassing and shameful it is to be me. I would do anything to get the courage do just put my life on pause, a pause that can never be played again.
You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all the time, and you can't remember what it was like before. People take the feeling of full for granted. They take for granted the feeling of steadiness, of hands that do not shake, heads that do not ache, throats not raw with bile and small rips of fingernails forced to haste to the gag spot. Stomachs that do not begin to wake up in the night, calves and thighs knotting in muscles that are beginning to eat away at themselves. They may or may not be awakened at night by their own inexplicable sobs.I do not remember very many things from the inside out. I do not remember what it felt like to touch things, or how bathwater traveled over my skin. I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry. At a certain point, an eating disorder ceases to be "about" any one thing. It stops being about your family, or your culture. Very simply, it becomes an addiction not only emotionally but also chemically. And it becomes a crusade. If you are honest with yourself, you stop believing that anyone could "make" you do such a thing— who, your parents? They want you to starve to death? Not likely. Your environment? It couldn't careless. You are also doing it for yourself. It is a shortcut to something many women without an eating disorder have gotten: respect and power. It is a visual temper tantrum. You are making an ineffective statement about this and that, a grotesque, self-defeating mockery of cultural standards of beauty, societal misogyny. It is a blow to your parents, at whom you are pissed.
And it is so very seductive. It is so reassuring, so all-consuming, so entertaining.
Previous PostsEmptiness, lonely, nothing, posted February 18th, 2013
Where do I go from here?, posted February 18th, 2013
Eating disorder, posted February 18th, 2013
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