Not fearing death anymore makes me feel so alive. I'm alive on my own terms now and I just know that's the only way I can truly live. One last gasp for eternity, I will live forever. I believe I've left enough marks, enough to be remembered and to matter. I never once got famous, but fame never mattered to me. It's about the marks you leave in people that matter to you, not strangers just because.
Maybe that's why I don't care about publishing my books, people can do that after my death if they want to. It's up to them. I have lived most of my life and somehow it feels like I've somehow packed in a lot more years into it than it actually was. I packed in a whole lifetime in my soon to be 27 years. I have lived, laughed and loved for an entire lifetime. I'm tired now, I feel so much older than my physical age. And my body could never quite tag along.
It is an active choice that I've never taken before, to slowly kill myself instead of just being over and done with it in just one night. I think I need it to be this way instead. I always knew there was gonna be pain, cause people like me don't go out peacefully. We go out screaming and kicking just like how we entered this world. And I need for my death to be as intense as my life has been. That's the only way I can put it behind me.
But I'll never entirely leave life behind me, I'll always carry it with me in my soul. The places I've been to, the people I've met. That touched my heart one way or another, who I've touched one way or another. I will be remembered, I'll go out in a storm. I'm so close I can sense death's scent, like rotting flowers, a soft breeze on my face. Burning and cold at the same time.
One thing I've become sure of, is that my spark will never entirely go out, it will go on flickering until the very end. I can't possibly snuff it out, even if I had wanted to. One last time I'm breathing fire and let that spark burn. Am I not, somehow giving into life at the same time as I let life slip out of me?
It's hard to explain, how I suddenly find myself feasting on life, as if it was my last feast ever. And it is, it truly is this time. Just take one big whiff on life cause it will be the last I'll ever have. I'm not sorry, not sad about it, but instead I smile. I smile at life and death, standing side by side. They are both the same and I welcome them both.
Wow, this song really fills up every corner of me. I don't know if I like it or not, not even sure if I really understand it, but thank you for sharing it, Y.
I'm still feeling very weak but my heart has calmed down. Now I'm cold sweating instead though. I don't know what this weekend will bring me. Closer to death, closer to life. Cause I just have a feeling that entering another fast is about the worst thing I could do to my body right now. I have been wondering, how I'm even able to do this, and why my body hasn't yet responded with reactive eating.
I'm looking forward to crashing, it will be the first real sign. Just hoping I won't be around too many people when it happens. I don't want to scare them, and if it happens at school that would be the worst. They don't deserve watching me slowly die.
But if that happens then so be it. There's nothing I can do about that, except from quitting school and I don't want to do that. It's like the only time and place I actually feel at least somewhat alive. But I just know, that as my eating disorder progresses, I will have to quit school eventually. That I have no problem with.
I just spoke to my mother on the phone and I talked about my fucked up sleep for a couple of minutes and about how tired yet wired I feel. It strikes me as odd that she still hasn't noticed. I've lost 4 kg in 2 weeks since I basically stopped eating on October 1st, she's bound to notice soon enough. No... collapsing in her presence would be even worse.
I'm not so bothered by the mess that is my life anymore. I find comfort in it and get mad whenever people think I should change. Sleep better, eat better, have less anxiety, clean up my apartment, anything. I don't want to change anything. I find peace in my chaos, it's where I feel safe. Cause it is that way on its own, without me trying anything. I've found some kind of peace within myself and I don't hate who I am. Only the way I look and my physical body.
It's still chafing against my soul, they're not of the same kind and don't fit together. I want to escape my body, to finally be free from it. I always feel so limited by it. And I know that killing it is the only way. I, on the other hand, will most likely go on existing. But that isn't important either, if the day I close my eyes forever is the last of my whole existence, I'd be fine with that too. Totally fine. A genuine rest for all eternity sounds nice to me. Suddenly, it's like my belief is not as important anymore. It could be wrong and I don't care.
I want to stay in this feeling, but my words are coming to an end. They always do, at some point or another, but they always also come back to me. If I keep losing 2 kg a week it will take me 7 weeks to lose the 15 kg I want gone. That's a little less than 2 months. If I don't die before then that is. But it would be awesome if I could even reach my ugw before Christmas. But time is going so slowly and my body is unpredictable. I mean, I might not be able to continue losing 2 kg a week even if I continue eating like this.
But I plan to, and so far it's working. But there won't be a walk for me today/tonight I think. I think I'm too weak to move even just slightly, so I'm taking a day off. Hopefully I'm not even weaker tomorrow, cause really want to buy those energy drinks. I'll stop with the vitamin drinks though. I don't want them to prolong my life.
I learn to live with my symptoms of starvation. The dizziness, feeling lightheaded, the heart palpitations, losing my hair, the weakness, feeling constantly cold and tired. I know I'm colder than usual because I wear a down jacket outside already in October. Not even that has gotten my mother worried. I think she just wants to believe that my eating disorder is forever a thing of the past. Not that it's back, slowly killing me, full force ahead.
Who would ever want their child to die like that. It's gonna be so hard, for both of us. When I really start declining. Cause I think, despite of everything and everyone, even K, that my mother is the most important person in my life. Not only love measured, but other things taken into consideration as well. She might not be closest to my heart, but closer in all other aspects. It's a tough thing to measure of course.
But I would be so lost without her and I know she would be even more lost without me. Somehow I've long thought that I would be the one going before her. In times, I've tried to imagine how painful that would be for her, but I just can't. I "can't" and I just simply can't. It's an impossible and incredibly painful thing for me to imagine. But I have to, to know what I'd be causing. I can't say that everyone would be better off without me when it's just not true.
It would devastate many, or at least that's my belief. I don't think anyone would have trouble understanding my suicide, but they'd still be devastated. It's not my intent to cause anyone harm but myself, but I know it's inevitable. You can't just die and expect everyone to be fine with it.
I know that and I try to be considerate. I never intentionally want to hurt anyone with my death, but it's just something that I have to accept. K and my mother, I guess are the two people I'm the most concerned about leaving, and my best friend of course. Cause even though we haven't talked in months, I know she's still out there, caring about me, thinking about me. I know she neither can just put such a long and intense friendship behind for good. I hope that she's still reading this, that she on at least some level knows I can't let go of her.
That she's always on my mind, and that I keep the picture of her in my thoughts and her love and words in my heart. No, I won't let her go. And I'll make sure we'll meet again, at least one more time. I'll tell her everything. All that's been on my mind for these past 2 or so years that I've been holding back. Let her in, one last time. I think I need it as much as she does, to finally talk everything through.
And the feeling inside me remains. It feels so genuine, but I don't have a name for it. I'm not sad nor happy, I'm not mindful nor dulled. It's something else entirely and reaches beyond what I can fully grasp. Maybe I'll just give it a new name instead of trying to measure it by human standards. I don't feel empty all the time anymore. Slowly I'm allowing myself to feel, as I realise there's no danger in my emotions. There's no danger in just being in an emotion. It can't harm me.
I've always known that, but sometimes I forget or feel otherwise. I've claimed it before, then claimed the opposite. But deep down I've always known that feelings in themselves are in fact completely harmless. The harm is in my actions, what the feelings lead me to do. Like the feeling of wanting to die is never dangerous before you pursue suicide. My feeling of wanting to die is not the real harm - my starvation is.
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