Unremitting

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.

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Come Down

The past two weeks I have been running on adrenaline, I felt stimulated by some indestructible force to put myself out there in the wilderness of life and take a break from me.  I hung out with new people and reacquainted with estranged friends, watched live sport, conversed, engaged and laughed. I was mostly dizzy and everything was blurry because of my purging fuelled low blood pressure, I was a little withdrawn but present.  I realised I had changed the moment I found myself in a stadium in the sun with my sunglasses cheering on my favourite team, a year ago or even 5 months ago my social anxiety would never have allowed me to have the audacity to go that far.

Today is the come down, it’s all over now… to be resumed but over  for  now and I seem to have sank into the depths again and the emotions I had carefully tucked away are oozing out with a vengeance. I’m distracted, binge-y, purge-y and done by. 

I will take euphoria whenever I can get it and wherever and these days I mostly find it from challenging myself to do new things and just dive into whatever adventure seems worthwhile, granted I have no money so I ought to use the word adventure loosely. The busier I am, the tighter my schedule is, the less I loathe myself and the lesser I feel suicidal. You cannot completely erase all the despair by just keeping yourself occupied but it does help lessen the severity.

Note to self

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Please be brave

It’s almost midnight and I’m in my bed swallowing up food rising up my throat that my body is demanding to rid of, it is not used to retaining food. I could easily purge and take the easy steep road and come off this. Bravery, discipline and most importantly restraint is what is needed here. It’s so hard but I will not, I’m ill, my body is broken. Bit by bit my body is disintegrating, someone on here once wrote of engaging in the process of dying because you’re not actually dying there and then but you’re killing emotions. I have sharp pains in my abdomen region, my chest feels heavy and cold like I have cold air stuck in my chest. I feel dead, dead and fed. I’ll sleep, today’s battles have been fought or more accurately I’ve spent the day dodging bullets but I still came out wounded.

Free Fall

Our demons are never our own at least not wholly, there are always loved ones who take partial ownership.. casualties of these personal afflictions of ours. My mother has suffered for years at the hands of my eating disorder, she has suffered by my hand. They all have.

I was diagnosed with anorexia on Saturday.

Another relapse, another crisis, another rock bottom, another mountain to climb.
I went to the ER on Saturday morning, I was too weak, bathing felt like climbing a mountain. They did routine checks and my blood pressure was too low 88/62 and because of that I had to be hooked onto IVs for hours. I felt so defeated just lying there, the mighty had fallen, the purging queen reduced to nothing but just another shivering body on a hard hospital bed in a tiny cubicle.

I can’t recall how may bags they pumped into me, I just know that I felt trapped as though I was being held hostage with no way of cutting myself loose.

Now I am back home and I am trying to eat, trying to be normal but I am failing. A hospital stay is not even enough to stop me from me from finding my stupid selfish hands at the back of my throat. I don’t deserve the love I get from my mother, so unconditional and irrevocable and what do I do, I keep perpetuating the same behaviours that landed me in a hospital bed. I am keeping down some food but not all, I have no problem with small meals it’s just that after eating something takes over me and I end up bingeing and purging…. undoing all the progress. I can’t flip a switch. It will take everything to undo and to unlearn all the patterns of destruction that i have been weaving for more than a decade. Unlearning has always been harder than learning.

I have to gain weight, I am so afraid.

Heavy

I can feel it today sitting heavily on my chest, the despondency. I didn’t have the distraction of work, the commuting to and fro. It was just me, dwelling on my insignificance and oh the bingeing and purging. I do self destruction well, like an innate skill of some sort. The sound of my voice is making my irritation is apparent but I feel so small, some dulled voice whispering in the distance. I could burst into tears at any moment but I would have an audience, I don’t like to be vulnerable.

Work is stressful, the salary is peanuts, if I subtract bus fare and all I’m basically running a deficit and my boss LOVES me but I want to quit because I feel like a cog in a machine, a means to her ends and the lot of them… Whoever they are. $20 a week? I know this job is not in the field of what I studied at university its a modelling promo thing but I can’t help but feel I deserve more and I do. There is starting somewhere, humble beginnings and all then there’s scraping the bottom of the barrel and robbing myself of a chance at getting a better job that could help me rise out of my circumstances but what if this job is a stepping stone. I’m confused. I’ll wait for it to pass/change but in this moment disappearing without a trace would be splendid.

Familiar waters

All I can smell and taste is vomit, I can smell it in my nose and my hands are sticky despite washing them countless times, it must be all in my head. I am like a drug addict, I can’t sit still my mind is continuously racing and excitement invades my bones at the thought of having my next binge, I’m sneaking food in my bedroom and when I am watching TV with my family I’m a million miles away strategising how and when the next binge and purge session will take place. I live in vomit, my towels, I have containers I purge into in the dead of the night and empty in the morning, I am no sweetheart, I am disgusting person but nobody could ever tell. I feel dead.

I have wasted what was supposed to be a relaxing weekend, I have purged 10+ times during the past 24 hours, I can’t stop even a cup of tea has to be purged. This story is getting old and I need something else to seek solace in. I have felt lonely these past few days, retreating back into the fold of that familiar hollow where narcissism reigns supreme, me me me. I can’t even force a smile and or an interaction because I want the world to go fuck itself. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that I have I cannot be bothered with anything or anyone. Leave me to die, not literally but let me be.

The new part time promo modelling job has lost its novelty, it’s not as exciting as it was. It’s all just monotonous drudgery and I can’t stand smiling at creeps in a short skirt and being as kind and lovely as I can. I won’t quit because I’ll hate myself even more. When it comes to the skill of suffering in silence, I’m exceptional.

New terrifying skies

The past few weeks have been busy, stressful, emotional, wholesome, life altering. I have gone through so many emotions and experiences all in a space of 3 weeks and I can safely say I have no regrets, I want to relive some nights even the ones I thought were horrible and I could not wait to go home.

I have for the most part been trying to unravel the patterns of my nature, I fight to reach the surface and then when my head is almost above the water, I get frustrated, impatient and I let go and let the undertow carry me away back to some underwater dark cave where the only sound is the sound of fear and I feel worthless, hopeless, suicidal. No more, time lacks patience and I have to seek what I truly desire and that which I have always lacked courage to seek. It sounds easy typing this but I am frozen and yet there seems to be some invincible force pushing me to carry on.
I participated in another pageant! Modelling has always been something that fascinated me but my eating disorder and body image issues were always those voices that whispered words of discouragement in my ear. This year, two weeks ago at the ripe old age of 23 I walked on a ramp. I did not win, the show was disorganised, it was a low budget pageant but it was an experience that I will carry with me forever for all the good reasons.

I have made friends, I’m networking and I am doing promotional modelling as a part time gig, it’s stressful, sometimes I feel like giving up because I have to stand for hours when I feel lethargic. I can’t keep up sometimes because I can’t shop around all day with my new found friends because bulimia drowsiness takes it’s toll on me, it makes me angry and sad but I cannot stop. Throughout all of this change and this new lifestyle, bulimia is remaining a constant and i don’t know how to shake it off because it is a coping mechanism. Today for instance I opted to stay at home bingeing all day instead of going to a casting, I am a sad sad sad person.

I thank god for all the beautiful people that have waltzed into my life and the footprints they have left, sometimes it gets too much though, the communicating, the meeting up for coffee. I tend to zone out when people are talking and the facade of cheerfulness I wear in public is more fixed than it ever was to the point where I think I have actually convinced myself that I am happy or content, I do have moments of joy but happiness? That’s a big word for the positive emotion that I sometimes feel.
I have always been a loner because I enjoy my own company in a narcissistic type of way I suppose, but I am a good person. Sometimes I just need a day to myself, away from the texts, the group selfies and the planning… I just need that alone time so I can go back to my former self for only a day so I can breath and then thrust myself back again into the wilderness of socialising.

I have work tomorrow and my head is spinning from purging, I am a mess but I will drink my fluids and hydrate, tomorrow I will wear makeup, look pretty, smile and I will cross my fingers and pray not to pass out. I look the part they are all convinced, now I just have to act the part. Inside the fragments that make me who I am are falling into pieces… shattering ever so loudly but on the outside I’m doing great. Someone I met while working had the audacity to say I was going places and that I had what it takes to succeed, wow such scandalous accusations.