Saturday, December 10, 2011
As usual, thank you to Jackie, Christina, Anafly and Fiandshalimer for your lovely comments on my blog! I love you girls!
In my darkest hours when my phone is silent because all my friends are too busy with their own lives to answer my texts, when I can't sleep because of the tears, when my abdomen is aching for my binging or my fasting, Mia comes to me like an avenging angel. She holds and rocks me and smiles at me with love. Everything will be okay. She hands me the laxies. As soon as you take these.
Sometimes Ana goes on holiday. But I'm never alone, when Ana is off keeping someone else company, Mia comes and takes my hand. Darling Mia, she whispers to me, she holds me when no one else will, she gives me hope when there is none. I swore I'd be off the laxies. Judith Marie doesn't like them.
Judith Marie remember being at work, sitting in her room with her eyes shut, riding out the waves of pain coursing through her body, waiting for silence in the corridor so that she can run to the bathroom. The paranoia, hoping that nobody realises she is going to the bathroom every few minutes. Then she sits in the bathroom, in yet more pain, waiting for the person in the next stall to leave so that nobody sees her in there.
But those moments are Mia's little triumphs. During my pain she points out to me that my abdomen is flatter now, and isn't that empty feeling just second to none?
Recently I've been binging like mad. LIKE MAD. And Mia is with me during each binge, silent but watching. Immediately afterwards she tries to drag me to the bathroom. Vomit it up again. But Judith Marie refuses. She knows that it's bad. She knows it's really bad. She knows that if she does, she'll be letting a lot of people down. She knows that if anyone finds out it will be a one way ticket to the mental health ward.
If you are wondering why everything seems to be so much in third person, it's because right now, I don't really understand my identity. I thought I was very Ana, now I seem to be much more Mia, and somewhere in there is Judith, desperate for an Ed free life.
Never before now have I ever lost control while eating. I will eat and eat and there is an unbelievably strong urge to continue. There are no thoughts in my head. In a strange way it's really peaceful. No stress, no depression, just nothing. It's like a compulsion, I just do it. But immediately afterwards, I want to vomit. So far I haven't yet.
And I really don't want to. But I will one day.
Recently I've gone from one tiredness to another. I used to be fully exhausted and breathless from the restricting, now I'm exhausted by the binging. I hate this. Sometimes I want nothing more than to walk into the professor's office and tell him everything and ask for help. That's probably why I've been avoiding him lately. I'm scared somehow that bit of me that wants recovery will break through and blurt it out.
The professor. I don't want to see him again. I'm scared. I'm scared of being found out and of giving myself away. I'm scared that he'll call me out for being so late with my work. I'm just scared. I don't want to see him. I care about him so much. I don't think I can face being rejected by him. I'll finish the work, I'll hand it in. Then I'll think about if I want to see him again. Seems stupid doesn't it, me burning the bridge between myself and the one person in my life who is even vaguely supportive.
I counted my blades. I have nearly 100. I keep getting more of them. I am feeling that it's probably nearly time to cut something else into myself.