The more I sink deeper into this more profound and incredibly dramatic descent and farther into my own personal hell, I have lost the ability to leave the house. Home is the best place for my pity, I cant find employment and everything outside is irrelevant to the state of current affairs in my head and life. Dim the sun. I know it’s not healthy, my depression has a sense of ownership of this house and the only way I can divest that ownership is through taking brief walks.
I took a walk today, one of my twice or thrice a week mini reprieves. Since I broke up with him I have gone on these walks and walking the same path, each day as I have walked past a familiar tree, a shrub, a wall. I have found myself stronger than the day before. Still mournful but I have felt my emotions become more aligned.. perfectly arranged upheaveal. Today was different, I felt everything and nothing in its purest form. It sank in finally, the bright sun blinding me I stopped and felt nothing. It finally sank in, this is the reality and I cannot change it and in that moment I thought to myself. This is how it goes and I accepted it.
I cry all day. I cry and binge and purge. I have gained weight, my face is fuller but I don’t mind. I don’t care. I am no longer as strict with my restriction and purging. Sometimes I feed my brain and don’t purge, most of the times I engage in mindful bingeing and purging for the whole day. My eyes are permanently baggy. Bulimia and its effects don’t at all concern me, I don’t lay awake at night thinking about my ED anymore. The ED thoughts have been replaced by equally dark or more darker thoughts, I can’t decide which is which.
Sometimes I take a deep breath and say I give up and that momentary feeling is relieving beyond how I could ever describe it but I still have desire in me.
I am alone tonight and it feels peaceful. I need this solitude, its perfect. I keep cancellIing plans with friends, I cant shake it offf. I have uninstalled whatsapp from my phone, merely opening the app and being inudiated with a barrage of messages has been giving me this sense of terror, I feel as though I am encircled my wolves.I have become the epitome of antisocial, I wish I could converse about mundane every day life scenarios. I cannot or rather do not want to answer what I’m up to tonight and then ask them what they are up to as well, the ol dance of useless chatter. Please stop inviting me to things. Just stop. I want to be left completely and utterly alone.
I’m sorry, please understand.
I have been seeing some changes in my daily life though it hasn’t been that much to really cause an effect but there has been that shift that change in the way the wind blows, I’m still not certain of the direction but I just know that it’s different. Amidst this change there’s also been a state of unchange in the way I keep perpetuating these wretched bulimic rituals.
My weekends are more occupied with things, last weekend I worked as a promo model and I got paid which was amazing, it would have been more amazing had I not collapsed and some girl had to run around and look for an energy bar and an energy drink. I just felt so typical, starving model collapsing huh! The call for the job was short notice and I had binged and purged the whole week so obviously standing the whole day was going to have it’s toll on me. I couldn’t even finish the damn energy bar because it was a calorie rich little piece of hell, I can’t carry on like this.
I can’t B/P then restrict AND pursue my childhood dream and I can’t eat normal meals either because a) I don’t know how b) I’ll get fat. I just feel so conflicted, I can’t let bulimia rob me of yet another opportunity but it’s hard trying to prevail when all that fuels you is the thought of experiencing that thrill when jamming goodies down your throat and then purging it. It’s some sort of high, I feel some people smoke a cigarette to take the edge off, some have a beer, some do drugs.. I need to binge and purge to take the edge off.
Tomorrow is a big day, I’m going for a casting and I’m wrecked with self doubt and that general feeling of “do I really really want this”, of course I do but I’m good at talking myself out of things because the easy way is all I’ve known but I can’t do that anymore. I should be careful of using that term-model-because though that’s what I’m trying to pursue I am not a model not by a long shot, waddling in heels and wearing red lipstick does not cut it, I need practice. I hope I’ll get there, I don’t wanna be some big shot model.. I just want a bite of a piece of the pie and if it so turns out I can have the whole slice then I’ll be the gladdest thing under the sun.
Today is day two without bingeing or purging and I am proud of myself but the hunger I am feeling is agonising, I am definitely pmsing and I want to eat everything. If I am to let go and eat anything outside the standard restriction items, I will definitely unleash the beast and it would all go downhill from here. On Tuesday night I ended up having to down rehydration salts because I was so dehydrated from purging my hands were shaking.
Earlier I went to the airport to say goodbye to my aunt and my cousin who had visited for a whole month. I hate airports not because of people leaving and the fact that I will miss them but because I want to be the one walking into those gates… leaving and never looking back. When will my turn to walk through those gates come? Watching them walk away felt like they were walking into the light and my heart broke because I remain a captive of geography. I can’t allow myself to be sad or to cry, the last time I surrendered to the empty and let myself feel I literally cried for a whole month. Maybe sadness is meant to be repressed, what we can’t deal with we bury… but for how long.
Is one really better off coming face to face with darkness, some avenues aren’t meant to be explored though I am “glad” I did but I am convinced I haven’t quite gotten to the bottom of this darkness, each time I hit rock bottom I find myself falling even farther. Depression changed me and I have become so acutely aware and grasp reality in such a manner that a person who has never travelled the deep trenches of sadness will never be fully grasp. There is so much sadness in this world that people without depression cannot see, they wear their happy-optimistic goggles which somehow mask the hurt and the unfair nature of life. I try my best not to be negative not because I believe in the light at the end of tunnel but because I do not want to put people off with my negativity, I just don’t see where this light could possibly come from.
Cutting up vegetables for dinner and I thought how undeserving I am of them, because of the size I am there is no proof I cut these greens up every single night. I should be a lean mean machine but I am not, might as well say to hell with it and gobble up the mac and cheese mum is making but I can’t. I am denied the luxury of eating a filling meal well at least in front of people, even in secret bingeing is not that enjoyable. No amount of solitary delicious binges can ever equate with eating and retaining a wholesome meal enjoyed with family- I haven’t had that in over a decade, truly. I can only vaguely remember the feeling when I was 8 or 9 eating rice, chicken and various mayonnaise dressed salads without any guilt creeping in afterwards.
There is so much discomfort in this skin I am in, I can’t believe it’s mine. It feels as though something is attached to me or to my hips at least. Maybe it’s all an illusion and my body isn’t this massive. I looked at my reflection today on a window outside and I could not recognise this pudgy woman with chipmunk cheeks and fleshy knees. I thought to myself “oh come on” as if that would have made all the fat bits melt away.
It’s time for dinner and it’s time for the dance, mum looks at me with a talking eye that no longer pleads for me to put more on my plate but now says “I can’t believe you’re still doing this yourself”. In a way it is relieving, this “silent acknowledging” of my eating disorder as opposed to verbally addressing it every single meal time.
Last week or was it last week but one I went to my dentist appointment but before I could even sign in at reception I looked around got scared and disgusted then bolted, I power walked down the hall then ran down the stairs as if someone was running after me and if they caught me they’d grab my arm tell me that I couldn’t leave then drag me down the hall and fix my teeth by force.
Today though I gathered courage and went to a nicer and cleaner dental clinic, my medical aid isn’t the best package out there so I can’t be picky. Because my decision to go was so sudden I didn’t make an appointment so I was in the waiting room for 4 hours then finally it was my turn. It was almost painless, they did something to fix my bleeding gums but surprisingly my teeth are OK. After all these years of being bulimic there are only minor problems with my teeth that can be easily fixed.
The anesthetic effect has just worn off, I can still taste blood but can at least drink coffee and have ice-cream. Didn’t have a good “body day” today, I feel massive… even more than usual. Sitting down and looking at my hips I just wanted to run home and binge. At midnight the ice-cream, biscuit and chocolate eating stops, clearly I haven’t been purging all I’ve been bingeing on.
“Are you really going to eat that? Have you earned it? Is there an extremely important reason you have to eat breakfast? You can just forgo it” – Internal monologue.
There is the concept of earning your meal like going on long runs so at the end of the day you don’t have to worry about eating that slice of pie. For me to earn to eat a food item and it actually retain it my restriction prior to that should be immaculate and I won’t feel that guilty. Sometimes being hungry isn’t enough to make me earn my food. Am I feeling faint? No? Then no food or binge and purge everything, you don’t retain what you haven’t earned.
Tonight I feel like I have earned to eat something sustaining but I couldn’t. My family were making burgers and I really wanted one, I just wanted a plain burger with just the meat and a wholewheat roll but the thing is because you deny yourself from eating certain foods and you’re the one eating veggies and a grilled chicken breast while everyone is tucking into some delicious pizza or whatever at some point your family will stop asking if you would want say a burger, pizza etc.
I couldn’t just say hey I want a burger too because I was embarrassed. I have successfully maintained this whole “She doesn’t eat” façade. Who am I to put cracks on that façade and make people start paying real close attention to my eating habits… the whole thing would disintegrate. Hearing someone comment on my tiny portions irritates me but it’s such a boost at the same time because it’s confirmation I’m doing something “right”.
In hindsight I am glad I didn’t have that burger because right now I would be too full and just itching to purge. I haven’t been keeping most food down lately and I am not even ashamed to say that it feels like a huge accomplishment. I’ll eat ice-cream and keep it down, I have earned it.
A while back my mum advised me to drink charcoal because apparently it helps cure stomach problems- bloating, stomach aches etc. I am having a lot of stomach discomfort heavily bloated and it also feels like I have a wound in there if that makes any sense. I’ve pretty much grown immune to all of the remedies that used to work for me so charcoal was my last hope. I drank my first cup just now
I mixed a teaspoon of the charcoal and added warm water, it has absolutely no taste and soon as I took it something definitely shifted in my stomach (in a good way) and it’s getting better. It’s the most bizarre remedy.
I have pretty much been dozing off the entire night, there’s just something about purging sessions that just drains all your energy. Tomorrow it’s back to restriction, no excuses. Lately though, I feel like my restriction hasn’t really been more powerful than it used to. I find myself adding more items to eat for a day that I didn’t eat before and somewhere along the road I was starting to convince myself that it’s okay but it’s not, my thighs are evidence of this. Too sleepy to dwell on all this, I’ll save the distress for another day.