Starving For Help

Chapter Seven

       I haven't really opened up to anyone about the cause of my Gastroparesis. I didn't even really tell many people that I have it. Why? I don't really know. I think I'm afraid. I'm afraid of so many things. I want to get help. Now more than ever. Unfortunately, the majority of people diagnosed with Gastroparesis, die of starvation and malnutrition. Ironic, huh? The main side effect is loss of appetite. Considering that I don't eat enough as it is, I'm afraid I'm never going to beat my eating disorder now. 

I lost my health insurance so I can't even get treatment at the moment to try to help my digestive tract. I can't afford to get help without insurance. I feel so stuck. What am I supposed to do? Just lay down and let this fucking eating disorder take my life entirely?! I refuse to let it win! I just need some help. Every time I think I can get over it on my own- she comes back. She's always a step ahead of me. Laughing. Because she knows I'll never win this fight. She's relentless. "You need me. You know you'll hate yourself if you ignore me. Don't eat that! Have you seen your thighs lately?! How do you even fit into those tight jeans, fatty!" I try to tell myself she isn't real. It's all in your head! But it never works. She's right. I do need her. She's the only one I really have. The only one who understands me. As much as I hate her- I know I need her.

 My life has become a constant battle between starvation and puking. I'm starting to come to the realization that there really is no way out. I'm not strong enough anymore. The biggest irony in all of it is, I feel more in control now than I ever have before. Yet, I know deep down I've lost all control long ago. I can't stop what I'm doing to myself. I can't tell anyone. I can't get help. I can't save myself. I know I'm gonna be dead sooner rather than later. It terrifies me but I have no idea what to do. Where would I even start? It's not as easy as it may seem. In fact, it's probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my entire life. The worst part is knowing that I have to do it alone. There's no way I'll ever be able to beat this thing alone. That's how I know my life is coming to an end. No one even knows that they should be getting ready to say goodbye. I can feel it every time I lean over the toilet. Every time I pass on eating for days at a time. Every time I button my jeans and they're a little looser today than yesterday. I can feel it when I try to get out of bed and it's a challenge. When I get dizzy from just bending over. Or have trouble walking upstairs because I'm just too weak to lift my legs up the steps. I can feel it with every muscle I try to move. I'm not okay.

   I smile everyday. I live my life like nothing is wrong with me. No one would ever guess that I'm screaming inside or that I've secretly been hiding this huge part of my life. No one would ever know that I cry myself to sleep at night or that deep down I'm starving for help.