I would like this day to be over. Another 50 minutes or so here in CST zone. That's 50 minutes too many for me.
Maybe that means tomorrow I won't be consumed by loneliness, sadness, self-loathing and destructive eating behaviors. Maybe that means tomorrow I'll be someone different. Better. Less screwed up. More perfect. Just like I ought to be.
Unfortunately, there's nothing remotely encouraging that the I can think of to make me even want to wake up in the morning. If I could sleep all day, I would. But even a double dose of Trazadone only knocks me out for 5 hours. So sleep's not on the agenda.
Eating's not on the agenda either. I put so much sugar into my body today, it convulsed and sent it back up as frothy vomit. Chocolate colored, of course. Stuffing peanut butter balls, chocolate-dipped caramels and ginger snaps into my face hole did nothing to ease the pain in my chest. Nothing. Why bother tomorrow? It will just be more of the same.
This fucking sucks. I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate it. Myself. This situation. This goddamn fucking eating disorder. My inability to change. To let go of the eating disorder. To take control of myself. I don't feel that I can do it. I don't see any hope. I can't even go a week without binging or purging. And now there's the scale.
I stepped on it Christmas eve. I needed to see a number. I was willing for it to be sky high. I just needed something concrete. Absolute. Something to prove that I am more than a figment of my own imagination. And the number was wonderful. Lower than I've ever seen on a scale. Comforting, encouraging, affirming. So welcoming.
The scale's in the kitchen. I don't have the guts to move it. I stepped on it this morning, as a present to myself. A present from an old, dear friend. The number was lower than the night before. It was beautiful. But not strong enough to keep me from gorging myself on holiday food. So I tried it again tonight. Twice. It was the same both times. I know I'll step on it again in the morning. Just to be sure.
The clock keeps ticking. Thank god a day has only 24 hours.
I CHOOSE
...to love myself.
...to treat myself gently, with patience and respect.
...to accept responsibility for every aspect of my life.
...to be present, awake, aware.
...to be open to possibility.
...to leap with the intention of landing.
...to do amazing things.
...to treat myself gently, with patience and respect.
...to accept responsibility for every aspect of my life.
...to be present, awake, aware.
...to be open to possibility.
...to leap with the intention of landing.
...to do amazing things.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Twisted Christmas
Posted by JUST JEN at 11:09 PM
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5 comments:
Your post made me shiver.
(((())))
Reading, listening, hearing.
(I had my own seriously fucked head experience yesterday as well, btw -- just so you don't feel like too much of a freak. I kept it general in my blog, but Jesus ...)
May today be better. If it's not, we're *still* reading, listening, hearing. And still here. And so are you.
xo
I hope getting past the holidays helps ease the pressure on you. We believe in you Jen and in your ability to find yourself and your place in the world to stand from.
Bought my ticket. Looking forward to seeing you in a couple of weeks....
XO
Dag
God, I hate the holidays!
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