Little Thoughts

Fuscia

Harsh anxiety, fixated on the pressure in my head.
I hear the growling of my stomach, and I feel. Something?
For once it's something, and that color is reappearing after years of being faded.
I start back into the habit of brushing my teeth and practically gagging with each swipe in order to feel better.
Heavy, like the weight of the universe exists within me. I don't feel small. I feel enormous.
My face feels numb with lack of restful sleep.
My eyes close and see the remnants of a clear head dancing in shadow figures.
I can't remember the last time I had a good time.
I can't disappoint my nephew because he bought me lunch and with each bite I feel regret.
That's not how a 17 year old girl should feel when giving her body sustenance.
I'm empty.
I'm full.
I'm sick.
I'm well.
I'm all characteristics but the negatives make me happy and the positives make me depressed as hell.
I am not the same girl that I have been the past few years. I'm diving back into old habits.

EDNOS -- Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified

That acronym shouldn't define me.
But I've been letting it recently.
I want a different him to like me.
I want to keep him as my best friend.
I want the new her to love me like a sister.

I. Am. Drowning.
In my own self doubt. I'm so mad that I keep passing off these feelings as getting mad at everyone else because I can't talk. My stomach is growling my name, it wants me to be healthy.
But my head is growling back at it, refusing to stop until there's a form of progress. And I can't fix that. I can't tell my head "this isn't healthy".

You. I'm sorry for being mad at you sometimes. I'm sorry that I rant to you all the goddamn time. I'm shitty as hell. And god I wish I could fix that. I'm an idiot. But hey thanks for existing and I guess for the occasional times you call me "cutie". It feels normal. Right. Good. Lavender.