And I know that the key to freedom is simply letting go. It's the hardest thing to do, but it is that simple. If you're holding on or fighting it will trap you, I'm sure of it as that's what I've done through most of my life. My mother is very wise and has often tried to teach me that, that I need to let go of things that are bothering me. I know it, but I can't put it into practice, I've never known how. I think that is something that can only be learned, not taught.
Self discovery has always been my thing. I've always kept digging in my heart, mind and soul to get to know myself better than I ever thought was possible. It has hurt me, but also freed me in a way. So half free, half a prisoner of my own mind, I walk on the border with one foot in my cage. I can't let go of my cage as it's my only true home but don't I also know that even if I manage to escape, I won't necessarily lose what is home to me?
They say home is where the heart is, but to me, my heart is my home. I always bring it with me, my curse and my comfort. It's so comforting knowing that wherever I end up, how ever many galaxies away from my favourite place, I'll somehow always take my home with me, wherever I go. Maybe by heart I mean soul, cause sometimes it's hard for me to tell the difference between those two. They interlock and connect with each other, but they're also very different. I don't know, sometimes I just don't know.
This might be crazy but... somehow I think my eating disorder brings me closer to that home, to myself, my inner core. That all this suicidality makes me more real somehow. I open up in strange new ways that didn't seem possible before. It's like I gaze inside and outwards at the same time, meeting somewhere in the middle. I'm not wasting air, I'm using it. What I do might not affect the world on any kind of larger scale, but I do somehow think that I contribute somehow, by just trying to be real.
I reach out to people, help them if I can or just offer support for whatever they may go through. But I wouldn't lie and tell them what others have told me over the years. Nope, it might not get better, for example. But it can. Not for me, but maybe for you. I might be a part time misanthrope but little by little I'm letting people back into my sphere or comfort zone again. People usually see that as a sign of getting better, but to me it's almost always been the opposite.
Because... how do I phrase this? It's something I can't fully understand myself, but I think it's because the more I give up, the more I'm letting go. And by letting go, I lower my guard. I never let them in on my suicidal or eating disordered thoughts though, I just share what I think is the best to share at the moment. So I still keep my distance, afraid to let people too deep in under my surface.
Not sure what could happen if I would, let them in too deep, that is. Causing worry, causing alarm and putting pressure on the other people as if they were obligated to make me feel better. They're definitely not, but they often seem to think that they are. No one is ever obligated to make anyone feel better, it's no one's duty except possibly those who work in hospitals. But just the average, random person that I happen to open up to? Heck no, you're not obligated to do anything except possibly just listen to me.
I think people put too high demands on themselves in such situations, that they're just trying too hard when really all they need to do is to just listen. Now of course I appreciate it when I'm given good advice or comfort or anything along those lines, I'm just saying that it's not required.
I keep forgetting that it's Sunday and I'm like "Why didn't I buy more cigarettes today?" and then I'm like "Oh, because the tobacco store is closed." I seem to confuse the days much more when I'm either not eating or not sleeping. I'm going on artificial sleep these nights to try and steer up a circadian rhythm again. Mostly my only reason for that is to prevent night eating. I'm horrible, I know.
But it works and I haven't eaten for 2,5 days, thanks to being able to go to sleep at more decent times at night. Although last night must have been an odd exception, cause I didn't fall asleep before 4:00 am and still managed to not go berserk in my kitchen. I don't know how exactly to count the time I went to bed because time moved backwards an hour before I went to bed. So actually I fell asleep sometime around 4:30 but my watch only showed 3:30.
But I still went up in the morning when they woke me up around 9:30 and I've managed to stay awake since then. It's easier for me to starve in mornings and during the light hours than during the dark hours. My "peak" or what to say, when I'm the most awfully starved, is usually between midnight and 2:00 am. So I'm opting for setting bedtime to when those cravings start to make me lose all that control and will power.
Uh, I find myself looking at thinspo all days now. Mostly of girls because male thinspo is much harder to find. Or perhaps I should say, male bonespo is hard to find. I don't know why I keep looking at it though, it's not like I actually need "motivation" or something. Not anymore, now my eating disorder is just too real to even try to ignore. It reminds me of how much I want to lose weight all the time, I don't need external reminders that I need to keep working for my goal.
So tired now, need more caffeine, but can't decide if I should have coffee or an energy drink. I felt so damn anorexic at the grocery store by the way, only buying coffee, tea and energy drinks. And oh, I found a solution for the bitter taste of Imovane that I could before only deal with by eating something: mouthwash! Lots and lots of mouthwash. I think I rinsed my mouth with that crap 3 times last night, after taking that medication.
Yeah, I'm the picture of health, obviously. I'll try to make it to my bed without Imovane tonight though, as I've already taken it 3 nights in a row now. I don't want to waste them or get used to taking them. I need for them to actually work when I need them. So, just Lergigan and Mirtazapine will have to do tonight.
Oh my god, I wonder how bad all my values and such would be if I took a blood test right now. Like high in cholesterol and low in everything else. It surprised me last winter that your cholesterol gets higher when you starve yourself. I didn't know that before and I do still find it rather strange. They'll probably take some new blood tests on me by the time they notice my relapse though. And nag about me taking stupid vitamin supplements and what not. As if I cared. As if I wanted to get better.
I would face it with a grin, that I've successfully damaged my body so to the point I am in deficiency. If I am, that is. Cause yeah, what I do eat is usually healthy stuff like salads and egg soups and such, but I eat so very little of it and half the time I'm literally only living on sugar and caffeine. My body has been showing signs of malnutrition for quite a while. And oh, maybe by the time they do notice my relapse they could check my heart too? See if it really is beating irregularly, I mean?
I'd likely refuse any kind of extra medications or whatever they could possibly want to throw at me though. It would only still my curiosity. I wouldn't seek that help, but I'd agree to get tested if they wanted me to. Cause the tests are (hopefully) harmless and it could be good to know just how much of having one foot in the grave I actually am. Cause I'm already close to collapsing and it could take weeks, even months, before those idiots actually start noticing that my ED is back.
I wouldn't just confess it, but I might be able to hint at it as I get closer to my anorexic BMI or something. Not that I want help ever, which you know by now, but I want that fucking diagnosis. And I know they're gonna notice sooner or later. I can't just walk around looking like a freaking skeleton and expect everyone to be fine with that. Not a chance. And I don't want them to be fine with it either, I want for people to care and ask me how am I really feeling behind all these lies?
And when they ask me for how long I've been starving this time I'll say from October 1st cause that's when I started losing weight, even though my relapse was actually in late August. I had like a double relapse. First slowly just making my portions smaller and stop eating chocolate, then suddenly and all at once. And I might also throw in that I've been doing a better job at slowly killing myself this time than ever before.
I would want for them to know all of the reality, the doctors. Might save my mother some of the awful truth. Like that about my heart, unless it's something very serious then I should let her know cause then it would actually be important. I don't know, it depends, on exactly how dying I will be by then. Who knows, maybe my shrink will notice already now on Friday? In that case I'll lie my way out of it, cause it's way too soon and I'm not even underweight yet.
I'll keep the vultures off my back as much as I can at least until I've reached 46-47 kg. Then, when I'm finally getting thin enough for an anorexia diagnosis, I'll agree to getting poked around with again. But only for a health check and a diagnosis, only that. Then leave the entire psychiatry behind me for good if I have to, if it has to come to that. I will try to be prepared for whatever storms I can be expecting, try to do my best to keep my head straight through it all. Cause it's my life, don't you forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment