These Demons

Chapter Thirty-seven

When my packed schedule finally comes to an end, the sight of a camera already awakens the urge in me to run for the hills.
It's great to know we're finally done with all the stupid interviews and photo and video shootings, but every second of doing these things filled me with nothing but a deep sense of hatred.
The usual shallow talks about how excited we are and how hard we worked and how important it is for us to finally play shows again and give our fans something for doing so much for us bored me to death, I look terrible in every single photo I've been presented so far, I don't want to be in the eye of the judgmental public like this and nothing satisfies me the way it has turned out.
The videos lack something, shootings look ridiculous and interviews sound immature, so all I'm left is the relief because it's finally over.

We've never had to get all of these things done so quickly before a release, but the bright side is that there now won't be any more special magazine issues or demands to speak with me.
This is really it when it comes to advertising our record.

But this awareness also leaves a bitter taste on my tongue because one thing is clear too: The worst part hasn't even started yet, and that's the release itself and the huge tour following.
I've honestly considered quitting the band so it's finally over, but I don't have any other plans or options to keep my career and since I don't have the degrees, skills or talent to do anything else than music, I can't switch fields either.

Zoe hasn't called or texted, and neither have I. I've wanted to at least a thousand times, but I could contain myself by convincing my twisted mind that I was right and she was wrong.

Every second I get to spend alone is both liberation and captivity because I despise being by myself, but the negative emotions I hold for other people are by far stronger.
Looking at them, I already know how they think about me, judge me, look down on me.
My weight has been a topic several times, but I somehow got out of it without being entirely sure how I did it, and it made me realize what a great liar I've become over the course of time, but I'm not entirely sure if that's a positive thing.

This is or the other way, it all comes to an end and when it does, it's December. The Christmas spirit has never been farther away from me than it is now, but I turn passing by the Christmas foods into a game when I go to the grocery store by challenging myself through spending as much time with the products as possible without ever buying or consuming them.
There's no sense behind it, but I like the wrappers, smells and proving myself that I'm strong enough to withdraw.

I do eat cinnamon, though, but I put it on top of cooked pure carrots and eat them once a day for a few weeks before returning to raw vegetables, fruits and the occasional rice cakes and low fat yogurts.
It didn't happen intentionally, but I've created a list of foods I consider safe and am therefore allowed to consume, and everything that doesn't match this made-up list in my mind doesn't get to enter my stomach, and the terrifying fear of what might happen if I slip keeps me from any more binging and purging.

This city doesn't have a winter, but it's so chilly that I have to run around in multiple layers of clothing and wear a coat and gloves additionally, but I shiver at all times anyway and my fingertips constantly turn blue, making the blue veins that shine through my pale skin look even creepier.
Also, I'm a chainsmoker now and have been more tired than I ever remember being, but when I lie down, I can't sleep long because I'm being woken up by pains in my stomach, nightmares about food and cold sweat all over me, and my heart rate has been getting messier than ever lately.
Sometimes I remember how I was told to go to that counselor who was recommended to me, but I'd never actually do that because those people always think I'm insane because I do stuff no one would do who is considered normal.
But what do they know about me?
The aching emptiness inside of me and the pain I sense is my only daily reminder that I'm still alive because everything else about me feels dead.