it only hurts this much right now

I don’t want to do it anymore.

I don’t want to chase this made-up idea of recovery. I don’t want food to be enticing or taste good. I don’t want to think about how far I’ve come. I don’t want to be this fucking fat.

My brain screams at me all day long, except when I eat. It’s the opposite of how life used to be. Now, instead of living in a numb world where I criticized every last calorie in, on, around, next to, or in front of my body, I blackout when I eat. I went from guilt before eating so I wouldn’t, to guilt immediately after, once the fat and sugar and carbs are already flowing right into my stomach.

I hate it.

I hate that no matter what I am flooded with guilt. If I’m going to feel this shitty all the time, I sure as hell would rather do it skinny. No one tells you that recovery doesn’t really exist and that the suffering just changes. It’s brutal.

Life feels so hard right now, I’m working a job that is good but not my forever plan. I’m in a great relationship but still hurting from unresolved past trauma and that’s impacting my ability to trust and love the way I want to. I’m hours away from my parents… I started that sentence as a positive but truth be told being away from them is sometimes the worst part of all this.

I miss being sick and not feeling anything but hungry.

Everything is so loud now. My brain never stops. There are nights when I literally cannot sleep because my brain won’t shut off. I lay in bed planning how I’m going to get my life together and that it will be the last day of living in my fat body - it’s weight loss from there on.

If I could, I would stop eating today. But my anxiety and OCD have honed in on my health. My greatest fear is death and my OCD says if I stop eating then my heart will stop- I’ve been too hard on it already and it’s catching up to me. In some twisted fucked way that is my life, my mental illnesses are keeping me alive.

In the same breath, they’re trying to kill me. All I think about is heart failure, cancer, and aneurysms.. did you know they can literally happen at any time for no reason?!

I’m not suicidal but I really do wish it would just stop sometimes.

Anorexia makes it stop. I was not this anxious or depressed when I was sick; I couldn’t be. What energy did I have to think? Believe me, I get it. I can’t starve myself to solve my problems, it will kill me, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I can’t want to.

I don’t know how to make room for everything to exist. The pain, the suffering, the misery, the grief, even the hope. I feel like the person at a circus who somehow juggles five blowing pins while walking on top of a big ball. Except I can’t juggle or keep my balance.

But I have to learn. I don’t want to lose my job or have to leave it. I don’t want to lose another boyfriend to my illness.

More than any other factor in my life, I do not, and cannot, hurt my parents again. They deserve so much more from a daughter than constant hospital admissions and treatment bills. They really are my strength.

So I’ll have a shitty day or two, maybe even a week, a month, a year, who knows when it will stop. But, I’ll get it together, better is the only option. Sitting in the shitty feelings is part of healing. So I’ll sit, and sit, and sit some more. Breathing in. Breathing out. Breathing deep. And breathing through… ;)