There are nights when I feel like I might not make it through the night, not because of anything I might do purposely but I feel as though my body will just fail me as I sleep and that will be the end of me. The end of our story- my multiple eating disorders and I. Tonight is one of those nights, I am so afraid of dying and I regret everything. I want to crawl back into my mother’s womb and start again. I feel ashamed and remorseful. I can’t contain myself, my emotions. I’m in bed and I can’t stop crying, the left side of my chest hurts and all I want is to not be alone. I have suffered from eating disorders for half of my life but now something has changed, before there was something teeming inside of my veins, a fire that burned inside of me but now I feel dead and that fire though still present has been reduced to a tiny spark, I’m all out of ideas.
Looking up it’s heart wrenching to see just how far I’ve fallen off the mountain. I’m a mess, my blood pressure must be so low because of the constant purging and that’s not doing my heart/organs any favours. My bag of tricks of crush diets, restriction rituals and all that other nonsense has run out. I’m a liar, a burden, a problem that needs fixing, lovable but you’ll find yourself exhausted from caring about me.