Perhaps it was only because I felt so miserable today after never going to bed last night, but regardless, I couldn't stop the depressing thoughts that continuously plagued my mind. I have made some startling revelations in the past few days, one being how little I value my life. It's not that I plan on ending it (although I have considered it in the past), but I take little to no measures to ensure its longevity. I'm sure, after more than a month of posts, you guys may have noticed that I really like to write. In fact, I write every day, even though it's almost always my disturbing inner thoughts. That is usually how I occupy my time between classes or work...or I draw, but lately I've just been continuously writing elaborate thinspiration quotes as supposed to sketching. My mom's an artist, and I did manage to get that gene but it wasn't something that I wanted to pursue as a career like she did. However, I still allow my creative side to show through, and this is what I wrote while battling fatigue and boredom:
"I think that I've finally lost my mind. I always knew I had issues, but I didn't really think I had it in me to quite fall this far. It's kind of a strange feeling...I feel like nothing and no one can hurt me because I hurt myself more than anyone else ever could. I'm listening to Johnny Cash, "Hurt," and I think I know how he feels. He sings, 'I hurt myself today to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real.' Sometime I feel as though I'm not really living. Im not grounded, have nothing keeping me here, and I walk through life as if I'm trapped inside a mere shell and watching the world through blinders. HOw long will I be asleep in this dream called life? When will I finally wake up and take control of the disaster that I know awaits in my not too distant future?
"I don't know that I really truly care about anything. The only thing I live for is that damn scale and making the frightening numbers go down. In the past, I've bought diet pills, laxatives, and even syrup of ipecac...but I was always too chicken to use them. Now the vials that have been waiting buried in the drawers of my vanity are beckoning me, and I don't know how long I can resist the temptation. Of course, I've long since given into the the lure of diet pills. I don't know that they have the greatest effect on me because now I can feel the pain in my chest, or more specifically, the left side of my chest. My heart beat is frantic, and I wonder if it is just my mind or is my heart actually in pain? An odd feeling, and I almost had the urge to call my mom and tell her I loved her...but I'm not one for dramatics and I know I'm not having a heart attack. It's probably the combination of lack of sleep and high doses of caffeine.
"I'm not intentionally trying to end my life by any means, but I certainly don't do much to save it. I tell myself that at least I'm close to a hospital. Yes, that's my justification. Oh well, whatever happens happens. This is a case where saying that there's nothing I can do about it is an outright lie. Technically, it is well in my physical control, but I just can't sum up the energy to care. In the end, I just continue leading the destructive lifestyle that I'm sure will be the death of me someday. I'm curious as to when all of my actions are going to start taking their toll, and I know that it will come as a shock to anyone who knows me. It's amusing to see how people think I'm this perpetually cheery person when in reality my mind is a whirl of depression. And my mom thinks that I believe myself to be perfection personified because that's what everyone else thinks. In her mind, I am too critical of other guys and refuse to date them because they aren't good enough and I ignore my own faults. Little does she know that it's more that I'm afraid of how they'll react once they finally realize (without me telling them since I refuse to give my secrets) that the young woman they believed to be a prize is actually a beautiful disaster with an eating disorder and little care for self preservation. It's such a drastic change from my outward impression, but that's what makes me such a perfect liar. I'll never get help for my troubles because no one close to me would ever believe that I'd need it since I hide it so well. Of course, I'll be eating my words if anyone ever finds this.
"Maybe one day I will stop leaving this double life. But I can't possibly show the world what I write in confidence, and I never can make my mask the reality. Who's to tell what is real and what is not? Even I have no idea. And perhaps that's what frightens me the most."
All of that written in my biochem notebook. And fyi, I think I did well on the exam! Too bad it cost me an entire night of sleep.
And I'm doing a fasting competition that starts on Wednesday. Feel free to join!
