But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.
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Stopping the Self from Destruction
I woke up very late today, and it made me feel terrible about myself. I felt dirty, lazy, and like a waste on society. So I began to binge. I ate and ate until I was feeling a bit nauseous, at 1,500 calories. Then I realized that I didn't have to keep going. That I didn't have to purge. That I wasn't too far gone yet. I still had a chance at salvation. It was hanging by a string, but if I really wanted to, I didn't have to purge, and I could end the day on a good note.
So I quit eating. And I started distracting myself by studying. I felt so much better and so accomplished. I look outside at the fog and I love it. I feel the cold tingling on my skin and I feel alive. When I was bingeing and purging constantly I felt nothing but hunger, sickness, and sorrow. I couldn't feel anything but death hovering in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to consume me.
My biggest fear is that I will relapse. I can barely type that. I am so scared that my throat chokes up and my stomach churns at the thought. I cannot go through that again.
Last time I was at UCLA in the medical center I would drag my IV pole outside with the two pumps, even though it was so heavy, just so I could get outside. My heart would be racing and pounding and I would be faint, but I had to see the sky. I would look at the sky and I would beg to die. Because I was so sick of being tormented. I saw the sun and I knew that God surely existed, and I wondered why I had to live. No one knew how depressed I was. I was honestly considering suicide, but I feared Hell would be an eternity of bingeing, purging, home, and high sugars.
Sometimes I fear that I don't want to recover for the right reasons, or that I am not recovering, just doing semi-okay. I just don't want to think about food, calories, fat and weight any longer. But I count each one, and I weigh myself everyday. It is the only way I don't binge and purge, the way I convince myself that I have not ballooned up in the past 24-hours, and that my body is capable of maintaining while I eat in moderation.
I just hope that someday we will all be okay. That beauty really will be determined on attitude, and that misery won't exist. I suppose that was my image of Heaven. I suppose that is why I wanted to die.
12:17 AM - Saturday, Dec. 11, 2004
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dying - living
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