Unfinished

I feel like I’m dying.

That phrase keeps repeating, on loop, in my head. I’ve felt so much worse than I do now, but when I’m narrating the feeling of this moment, what I feel when feeling overwhelms…

I feel like I’m dying.

I’m drowning in myself. My skin and muscles and fat are bloated and I– the little “me” that is myself– is buried deep inside and suffocating. I can’t read. My eyes won’t focus. I can’t eat right (too much or too little). Crowds hem me in and terrify me.

Food. I fucking hate it. I lost five pounds from vomiting and not eating for five days. Go me. Fuck you. Suddenly I remembered that empty feeling, that skinny feeling, that feeling that felt so manic and good. But I eat now, remember? So I couldn’t eat small portions or only on occasion. And when i tried, I ate too much. And eating too much is the purest form of self-harm I know. Food turns me into a monster. My body feels flush and bloated. I feel dehydrated and my lips are chapped.

My sister is here this week (Sunday thru Saturday). And she wants to “do” things. Which I’m fine with to some extent. But I’m, frankly, depressed. And I repeat:

I feel like I’m dying.

Tuesday was rainy and wet. We walked up to the Cloisters in the rain and wind. We got there, at last, soaked, and wandered through the museum. I love it up there. But I did feel distant, separate, slightly off. When we were done, I knew that I was hungry and ready to go home and curl up. Which we did. My sister fell asleep, and when I woke her because it was time to head to midtown to try and get Book of Mormon tix, she said, “Jazz club?” Which is the last place I want to go when I feel like shit. I said, fine, A and I will go down and do the lottery, and if we get tix, you can come down and meet us. She said okay.

I was in no mood. I sobbed over A’s subway sandwich before heading back, planning how to tell her I couldn’t possibly go out again. But I get there, and she’s curling her hair. I try to come up with a soft way of saying “I just can’t,” and finally just say, “I just can’t.” She’s disappointed, subtly, and I feel like I’ve done something wrong. Same thing happens

 

FUCK I LOST IT ALL. I finished this fucking blog entry after two fucking days and fucking wordpress lost it.

FUCK.

 

I won’t bother. Here’s this. The only thing worth sharing, anyway. See this musical. It makes things slightly better.

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2 thoughts on “Unfinished

  1. Hey B,

    I haven’t commented here before (I’m an occasional lurker), but I wanted to reach out since you’re feeling so down.

    It’s always harder for me to eat well after I’ve been eating less for any reason, and especially after I’ve ended up losing some weight. I’m thinking this is probably a common response for someone who’s recovered from an eating disorder, and having a harder time—with restricting, bingeing, or whatever—is to be expected. I know it feels horrible. Is there a way to reframe it? “It makes sense that I’m struggling right now, so I will give myself a break and do [x] to try to feel better”? “This sucks, but I know from experience it will pass”?

    Is there a way to take advantage of your sister’s visit to help you eat more regular meals?

    I’m just tossing out ideas here, so ignore anything that doesn’t help. I just wanted you to know that someone’s listening.

    xx

    • Hi there,

      Thank you so much for reaching out. I am struggling now, yes, but as far as the food is concerned, I’m beginning to find my balance again.

      I think that when I struggle emotionally (and I am struggling now– so much so that I’m seeing my psychiatrist this week to talk about a new option (much of this was in the part of the post that WordPress lost)) the easiest way to “manage” is to revert to eating behaviors.

      I’m lucky. I have the support and understanding of my partner, I have a really strong support system in my docs, and I have everyone who reads/comments on my blog. My sister’s gone as of this afternoon, and so that takes some pressure off too.

      I so appreciate your suggestions, and even more, your reaching out to me. It’s nice to know that the word vomit is being “heard,” as it were, even if just occasionally. 🙂

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