The days get longer and the nights get darker as I continue down this journey to break free. Keeping quiet about my secret is getting harder, the lonlier I become. I become a little more lonely every day. I try so hard to make myself believe that I don't need this deadly disease to be happy. I try to tell myself that I can eat without puking and I'll be okay. I want so badly to believe that I don't want to be this way. But the further I go down this road, the more it becomes harder to really mean any of it. Deep in my soul, I'm pretty sure I don't want to stop. That scares the hell out of me because I don't want to die.
Not being able to talk about my anorexia with anyone, is the one thing that's going to keep me on this road. I know if I could just open my mouth and tell someone. Someone who might just understand. Someone who would know how to help me. I might be able to beat this. But I just can't. I've tried. Many times. Every time it's like the words just wouldn't come out. I couldn't speak. I don't know if I'll ever be able to. If I lose this secret, I would lose everything that has kept me together for the past year. I would lose the control I've gained over my weight. I would lose the feeling of strength I get every time I ignore the hunger pains. I would feel lost again. Most of all, I wouldn't know how to handle the truth coming out. I wouldn't know what to tell people. I wouldn't know how to react to their reactions. It's scary to think about. I want to get better, but at the same time, I don't want to go back to the way I felt before this relapse. I want to be skinny. I want to be perfect. Why does that have to be so difficult to comprehend? Why can't I just live my life without feeling guilty? I feel guilty for doing what I'm doing. But if I eat, I feel even more guilty. The kind of guilt that eats you alive at night. The kind that makes you hate yourself so bad that it sends you in to a panic attack. I can't handle that kind of guilt.
It's getting worse now. I used to be able to eat a few bites of something and keep it down. I knew I needed some kind of nutrients to keep myself standing. Lately, it's getting back to how bad it was when it first started, 8 years ago. I ate a few peanuts the other day. Afterwards I found myself on the verge of tears as I tried to block out her voice. How do you expect to be perfect with those calories inside of you? You know you can't digest that. You need to punish yourself now!!! Her voice is getting colder. She's becoming more serious. I had no choice. I rushed to the bathroom to rid myself of those dreaded calories before my husband got home. I felt awful afterwards, as usual. But I knew if I didn't do it, I wouldn't have been able to sleep. I would have become so depressed I wouldn't have been able to handle it. I had to. I had no choice. I was completely sucked in to a life that I no longer controlled.
At least that's how she makes it seem.
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Starving For Help
Non-Fiction"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 d...
