So I've been watching a show called, "What's eating you?" I accidentally clicked on it while I was on YouTube and watched five or so episodes. It's about eating disorders. That includes Anorexia, Bulimia, and a few others not as well known like pica, and people who have these try and get help.
Watching it, I've come to realize a few things. First of all, that I do actually have one. I don't have to be extremely bony and obviously underweight to qualify or whatever. I do have an eating disorder and it is not healthy.
Secondly, I have come to realize that letting myself proceed with this disorder is halting any progress I make towards being healthy mentally.
"When someone starts an eating disorder, their psychological and mental health growing stops at that moment."
When I was with H coming out of disordered eating, I grew a tremendous amount. But it seems that now I have fully excepted we are over and gone or something, because I am delving right back into it. I want to grow and learn, but right now I am not all that caring about that, and I am letting the Ana inside me take over, and take the wheel. I am letting this thing control me.
Somewhere inside of me I realize what I am doing and I don't want to go back to it, but it's overshadowed by the part that likes what I am doing. That is possibly the hardest thing. I have avoided any videos or talk of anorexia and how unhealthy it is because I know that it will make me face what I am doing, and yet I let myself do it today, and now I am scared.
It seems clear to me that someone with a disorder this controlling cannot live a normal fulfilling life, or even be happy. One of the persons in the videos really got to me- well they all really got to me- but this one in a different way.
His name was Andrew and he was bulimic and anorexic I believe. He ran several miles a day and binged and purged. He just wanted to be skinny. I was enthralled by his story of abuse, and felt very connected to him, and a lot of it was because he has parts of his life parallel to my own. They showed how he called the producer and said he couldn't come that day because he had been kicked out of his home yet again. His roommates had grown so disgusted with his purging that they asked him to leave that night.
He had been living like that, being kicked out from every place he found, moving from place to place with no home and in the end became homeless. His friend, a girl, got very upset with him for not calling her to tell her what was going on, when she just wanted to help. He couldn't tell her that he was just too ashamed to say he couldn't afford to move in with her, and all she wanted was for him to reach out to her when he needed help.
I feel like that's what makes me feel close to him.
He self harmed badly after that. It was his only coping mechanism, and because of his inability to get out of poverty and help himself out of a bad situation, he got screwed over. He had had to get over seventy stitches for those cuts, and they had him go to the emergency room, which I am sure he could not afford.
When I was faced with being homeless, when H told me we were over and I realized because he couldn't face his own emotions I had nowhere to go, I had cut my wrist. I don't know that it really was a suicide attempt. I wanted to die, but cutting was really just my coping reaction. Then I felt even more trapped and wanted to die even more when the blood started flowing out and I realized I didn't have the strength to cut deeper, to cut again. I really wanted to be gone, but even that seemed to be barred from me.
What I'm saying is, I am not going to be able to learn and grow. I don't seem to be ready for that. Things here will not change, and will not get better. I can hope, but hope is a terrible thing.
"Hope is the worst of evils, for it prolongs the torment of man"- Friedrich Nietzche
I have been hoping for a long time to get out of this place, but I feel that going somewhere else will just be a dream. When something is too good to be true, it's not. I turned down a solid out for a cat. I don't know right from wrong sometimes. I cannot see my mistakes until I make them, and that is the nature of mistakes.
I just can't see how someone like me, who is terrified to live and terrified to do much of anything, can face down every fear and come out happy.
I feel that someone like me is not meant to be here. There must be a reason that the young die young.
I'm going to bed now. Goodnight.