There's been so many things I've been running from because they scare me. They're what I fear the most and what hurts the most. It's human nature to avoid pain, so you'd think it's only natural for me to run away from it. But just because it's human nature doesn't mean it's right, and maybe you run too far and end up in more pain than the pain you were originally avoiding.
Ok, enough of the philosophical ramblings. I mentioned in my last blog that I had a really good day of not purging, TWO days of no purging. And yeah, that was great and I'm proud of myself and all, but the two days following my miniature victory were a vomiting nightmare. Quite literally (though I highly doubt I needed to add that statement. You all aren't stupid).
I don't want to purge. I feel closer to death when I purge, which is one of those things I've been trying to avoid thinking about. Not trying to get all mystical on you guys, but I feel death every time I purge. Even when I don't purge, sometimes reality becomes both distant and distinct and I feel death reaching for me.
I don't feel ready to die. I still have things to do, my life to live. But if I've learned one life lesson, I've learned most people don't die when they're ready to die. Death hasn't always been a scary thought, but the thought of dying like this scares the shit out of me. Quite literally (yet again, I didn't need to add that. Blame it on my twisted and perverse humor).
I'm finishing a Vampire Academy book and I had FIVE PAGES to go, when my dad walks in to have a serious talk. Bad timing on his part, but I can't blame him for not knowing my heart was just shattered into a million pieces because Dimitri was turned into a Strigoi, an evil soul-less vampire, and now his true love has to kill him because he's better dead than a Strigoi.
He pretty much told me that he's freaking out because he can literally see me wasting away with every day that passes. He said he can't handle another one of his kids dying. He started to tear up which inevitably meant I began balling. My parents want to meet with my whole treatment team (three people- I feel like I made it sound like a dozen people were treating me or something) to find out what the deal is and where we go from here.
He said I have no margins left. I'm at a pivotal point and he can't just stand by because it affects my whole family.
Great. And I thought the day couldn't get any worse. Maybe all this sarcasm and dry humor is surfacing because I can't handle dealing with it seriously. The weight of it all is too much. I feel like the happiness of so many people rests on my shoulders and I can't bear it by myself. I think my Dad doesn't think I'm trying hard enough to get better, which makes me feel even worse because this IS me trying my hardest.
He's right. I AM dying. They say eating disorders are slow suicide. I, like probably everyone else, thought I was the one and only exception. I thought I could control it. Apparently not.
So here I am sitting in bed, salty tears dried on my face, and a very heavy heart filling my chest. I can't run from the pain anymore because it's cornered me. It's either death or facing the pain I'm not even sure what to name, and I don't want to die yet.
Please, someone tell me dealing with the pain will be worth it. Someone tell me everything will be okay. Because I'm not okay. Not at all.