The stillness of the early morning comforts the restless demons housed in my being. U-Me is as well as can be, given the ever changing landscape of my anorexia. These days I feel my edges being gnawed by the ghosts of addiction still haunting me after two months. Impatient? Yes- I say with a neurotic aura sweeping around my soul.
It would come to be that my two monsters, anorexia and addiction would clasp hands to do a dance of sorts within my psyche. I struggle with a recent weight gain of ten pounds which still leaves me underweight but my pant size has gone up from a zero to a three. Feeling like a jelly fish with rolls of unwanted fat is for me, one of the worst feelings I could experience in this world.
Stephanie is sad beyond reproach, I have begun restricting to immediately lose the extra weight and insure this abomination does not happen again. I wanted to get healthy, I thought putting on ten pounds would not make me feel different. However when new medication met inactivity the result was the feeling of a beached whale on the Fourth of July.
Nothing short of tragic is how I would describe my descent into a living hell I am experiencing with my mind falling prisoner to the scale and most of all, the naked eye. I am restricting more than I did when I first got sick with my ED. Stephanie is innately worried I will restrict past the scale's vigilance and propel myself into an active episode of anorexia.
I know I am unwell with my crooked thoughts and skewed desires for a thin, skeletal like frame again that so cruelly eludes me in my current state. Stephanie is concerned my restriction will send me into an new phase of anorexia that I will not recover from given the past wreckage I created at the mercy of my disease.
My addictive personality runs rampant as it oozes my blood in the darkness of the sunlight, shadowed by my obsession. Relapse is too much for me to bear, I am not strong enough or well enough to endure the winds of perseverance required to maintain a heathy perspective.
Today I am sensing the prevalence of disease permeating my life like beads of water on my nervous chin. I promised Stephanie we would go grocery shopping today thinking if I control the shopping, I can control my weight even further. Actively participating in my food preparation is a new found desire I display in the imprisonment of my psyche.
Addiction and anorexia are one in the same, not needing a separation of distinction by name. I feed off both and have only a slight preference for the addiction which bequeaths me the bounty of pills and the ecstasy of escape only better than the high of anorexia. Either way I wallow in the obsession of self preoccupation that only an anorexic junkie could ever grasp.
When I wander to the mirror to reconcile my feelings, a sense of dread twinned with panic envelops me as my eyes adjust and do lie like the words of others. Body dysmorphia lends its lying hands to the collage of mental health illness peppered in my diagnosis.
I cry for Stephanie as her fears are cruelly my hoped reality. I have not eaten since 4 pm yesterday and my mouth is parched for nutrients of any sort. I punish my body for being gluttonous with food. I can no longer trust my body's wants to fulfill my nutritional requirements. I surely do not warrant this additional ten pounds that catapulted me out of my acceptable size ones to the obese size three now snug on my hips.
I am awake with mania, the first sign of anorexia for me. I realize this is not the same for most people but it has precipitated all my bouts of anorexia.
I long for gaunt and hollow to return to my face and for "slight" to bed my frame again like long separated mittens on a winter's day. Stephanie is my fiancé and bestfriend, I want to cause her pain by wearing my truth cruelly leaving her to weep. How could I want something so bad for her to experience? I desire at all costs the comforting sight of jutting hips and boney fingers a fragility only another anorexic understands.
This morning I will share with my bare truths written within this post. She will not be surprised as our realities are antithetical emotions on a traffic light leading to nowhere. My journey is without a destination, I just want to be travelling on the road of my scale and the assurance of my eyes.
Corey
BORTH THIS WAY-2017
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