​I recognise myself inside these walls, I know who I am, here. Firm roots which I felt have restrained me but now suddenly cherish. All these ornaments, this bed in which I have shed many tears in, healed in and fallen apart all over again. This bed knows all my deeds… all the darkness, gluttony and shame. And this room which knows all my secrets. This house, that chair, my chair. That rock outside, my mother, father and brother, that random cousin, this street, store, shopping centre.
 I can’t let go. It’s as though the song has not yet been fully sung. I need more time. To absorb it all. More time to cherish.

My mother, her laugh, her voice, our Saturday trips- another ritual severed. My big brother and how he reminds me of a teddy bear, so gentle, kind, patient and my best friend. The series we watched, the inside jokes, the understanding, the fights. I will miss those fights, I was always the volatile one and he remained calm.

This is the last time I will ever sleep in this bed, this house, this city, country, this continent.

I can’t process this sense of loss, this great pain that comes with change. I can hold back my tears when in a state of disbelief, it has not sunk in. It does here and there, lately the spaces between believing and not have become wider. I’m really out the door.

Is this how it feels to have wings.  Heart in stomach and on the verge of tears

My biggest dream has come true and it all happened so sudden, I don’t know what to do with all this progress, I’m not used to this. All I’ve ever known are sealed doors and the ones that close shut abruptly as soon as my foot draws near. All I’ve known are illusions and big dreams. I can’t rearrange this matter in a way that makes me believe it’s really happening.

 I wish tomorrow would take its sweet time with its arrival. I need more time inside these walls. 


Never bloomed

​​I have been on zero contact with him for 48 hours. Yesterday felt a little like death, the without is always crippling. I shed some tears for the thing I don’t need but want and can’t have. I am hurting, I think of him every waking moment, my mind always reverts back to him. Getting teary eyed when shopping with my mother, laughing and then remebering him then choking on the lump in my throat. 

In the midst of all this I am however at peace, my mind isn’t wondering about were I am currently placed in the map or order of his life. Am I still top order, middle order or low order. I want to let go with grace.

I have always ached for distant places as I have always felt trapped by geography.
It’s the environment I am in, I would say to myself. If I leave I will find it, whatever it is.

He came along and I stopped wanting. I found it possible to find my happiness and home in the confines of this small town. I  thought I had made a breakthrough, why go halfway across the world in search of something, in search of inner peace, happiness and completeness if it’s here. I made a home in his eyes and his warm skin, my delusions have no limits. I stopped running away from myself when he was with me. That is why I never left in the beginning. Clinging on to that euphoria in the hope that things would change and bloom more than the current. The flowers never bloomed some more, I wilted and left.


​​​I feel as though I am loosening and falling apart at the edges. I had it. Mid month, I had it. That calmness, that rage and everything inbetween. I could place my emotions and name them. Lately I have been feeling like I threw myself back into the storm and I am losing it. Whatever I had mid month, I lost it.  I recognise this feeling, it’s this lost in Siberia, stinging abandonment & helplessness that morphs into bitterness feeling. I recognise this feeling and I know it has no life but I can’t let go.

I am on the verge of great change, something big is happening in a matter of days and now is not the time to feel this way. I need to be in a place where I can celebrate and anticipate my forthcoming breakthrough and be mentally present for my family but I can’t stop fixating on him and what may be going through his mind and if he really has loosened his grip. 

He told me about his new job over there and I felt that freezing sensation under my skin again and my hands became Jittery. It’s knowing he is sowing firm roots over there, that is what sends me over the edge. It’s another nail in the he really is gone for good coffin.The sad truth and this is my confession, I would give up all the things coming my way soon if I could get to be with this man and build a home with him.

Still a thousand kilometres apart, I feel like I am losing him again and I am beginning to feel the familiar ache that comes with him and all the motions we go through. I opened a healing wound, opened up my heart and its not like I could not see through the veneer of make belief & the screaming impermanence but at that moment and those days it felt so good. To talk for hours, to share, confess. Even with the distance I sometimes felt him beside me, this other day I felt him breathing beside me but it was all just a dream. This yearning runs deep.

You receive what you return, and I felt that no matter what the circumstances at least the mutual love was there. This singularity. Suppose all of this is rationalisation, easier on the heart, holding on to the idea rather than fully accepting it for what it is. Over.

On my online date chronicle

I am still reeling in the aftermath of my first ever online date. I could barely contain myself making my way over to the place. I even made an emergency visit to the salon!

I spotted him from across the street and as he made his way towards me, it felt less grander than what I had envisioned in my head. I felt he looked different from his pictures, he looked tinier, hairier, older. I knew his nationality but when he started speaking out came this heavy Spanish accent and what I felt was nothing. There’s nothing wrong with a Spanish accent at all I just didn’t expect it because I figured his accent would be globalish since he has been travelling his whole life, I can’t explain it but what I had assumed he’d sound like was not what I perceived. I went in for a handshake and he went in for a hug.

He is a gentleman by all accounts, funny, passionate, smart (PhD student) there is an air of easiness about him and he knows how to fill silences. We talked for hours, he kept staring at me like this deep gaze into my eyes, I was still in shock from just meeting someone from the internet in person, it felt so surreal and I could not hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. 3 hours passed and I told him I had to leave, it was getting late anyway. He paid and now feel embarrassed about not at least offering to split the bill.

We got in the same bus and his stop was earlier than mine, there was no form of physical contact of any sort, it didn’t feel romantic but it wasn’t awkward, I felt my personality didn’t get a chance to shine because I was so preoccupied with looking amazing I forgot my personality at home.

He texted me 10 minutes after we parted and we have been in contact everyday since then just like we have been for weeks. He isn’t bad looking however, he is attractive from specific angles, I’m thinking maybe with a shave he could look dreamy? I sound like a horrible person I know. I actually cannot recall what he actually looks like, I have to see him again to make my mind up, I don’t know where to place him exactly in my heart? I guess, friend or romantic interest there are so many things to consider. I realised that I’m shallow and materialistic this weekend.


I woke this morning to a bleeding mouth, with blood oozing out of the perforated roof of my mouth a few centimetres away from my throat. I spat, gargled, silently panicked and applied salt to the wound and waited and waited till it subsided. There is a hole in my mouth, I feel damaged and defeated. 

I have binged and purged an average of 6 times a week for the past 6 months, I don’t know any different. I am still unemployed, I spend the day dangling on the edge and by the time late noon arrives I give in. The binges are much more frenzied, much bigger and the purges are more violent hence the way my mouth, throat and my very being is disintegrating.

I have stopped by to read some blog post here and there, I had forgotten how it feels like home here, there’s this level of familiarity, this rawness that one cannot find anywhere… The struggle we share. I haven’t typed on a keyboard the way I’m doing now, I cannot concentrate my mind is always preoccupied and my bones are restless, watching a movie has become a thing of the past. I am so drained of electrolytes, life and variety so much so lucidity has become a thing of the past. I also seem to have flushed down my ambition down the toilet along with the regurgitated food that is meant to nourish my body.

I simultaneously care and do not care, it’s a delicate balance between having a steadfast grip or fucking it all up anyway. In the constant struggle of standing or moving, doing and the feeble attempts at self-restraint.. I, have forgotten what I was trying to do.

My social life has bloomed in proportion to the manner in which I have been relapsing. It’s hard to fathom, how it can be so. I go out and socialise but it’s always to a minimum and I like my parties/events few and far in between but that’s a start. I haven’t been able to drink alcohol though, I just cannot stomach it, maybe subconsciously it’s tied to my eating disorder.

I’m sort of talking to a man 9 years my senior, he’s the funniest I have ever known. It’s probably not going to go anywhere since he’s only in the country for a few months, I’ll just enjoy the conversations because his presence has been good for my soul.

I’m restricting, like always, I don’t know the way forward. I’m just going to follow this path that carved for myself. The most important thing though is that I have, by any means necessary have to stop purging.

Beware of You

The chase ends when you stop running from yourself, the grunting monster behind you in relentless pursuit quietens when you cease to run, why because the monster is you. Your mind, your thoughts, actions giving birth to tragedy. The self is more powerful than any outside influence. The dark is free there is nothing in there to drag you into the pit. It is what is in our head that claws out, manifests and reigns terror. Beware of you.


A noose, yes feel like that’s what I’m choking on. I’ve been working all week, I thought I would crumble having to stand for long hours at a time but I didn’t. My agent is super reliant on me because I report to jobs on time and do what I’m asked, it feels great but it also means more gigs for me which is great but (again) it makes me feel increasingly tied and entangled with these activities that although make me money they also increase my anxiety, I hate feeling obligated.

On the flip side of things, arriving home tonight was met with an intervention from my mum and brother who reckon my weight has plummeted to an all time low. Apparently I look like a boy, I’ll admit I’ve lost weight and my BMI is now 17.2 but I’m better for it. I have dizzy spells on a daily basis but my emotions in relation to weight issues I’m on top of the world, this is where it escalates for me anyway, once I’m tipping off the edge of the cliff the only way to go is to plummet off it, giving me such a high. Being skinny is the high, I can’t stop now.

I cannot be with the man who I thought I would be happy with, you know that type of guy who makes the bad disappear just by talking to him, the one that carries a light in their eyes you can’t help but want to be the best version of yourself. Now he’s gone and I’ve lost that verve, everything means nothing. I just wanna melt into the ground sometimes.