Its been 3 months since I have moved to Asia, feels longer. I can’t express in words the places derive of place through which I and my mind have journeyed. I have worked in factories, felt the surfeits of fatigue and drained some kind of weakness out of my spine. Weakness and something. Something I can’t quite ascertain.
My depression got worse then progressively better and so did my anxiety, I suppose I can attribute that to well, a combination of things. I let him go not completely but enough to be able to function and not feel like I am losing my senses. I started dating again, it was this impulsive non stop train. I finally settled on this one particular man who is so calm in the way he talks and is so patient and caring and he makes me feel like a queen, no guy has ever treated me so well. I feel as though I conjured him up in my head. He is great but there is nothing there on my end. No giddiness, no excitement just a sense of security and safety. I feel guilty.
I have moved into my own match box sized place and my bulimia has been given some kind of rebirth. I have been on a frenzy for a week now. Non stop, wasting money I do not have. Draining myself of much needed strength. I feel a little more fragile this week. I am still in love with my ex and he is still in love with me too. He is the place where I go to flower and then die at the same time. I don’t know. F