Eating Disorder Recovery · Uncategorized

I’m Not at Peace with it.

This was never supposed to be how my life turned out. It was never supposed to be this way. You know, most days I can take it. I can think of my past and my present and all that has happened which has led me to this very point and I can be ok with it…most days. But there are some days when it just hurts. I think of all the time I wasted, all the things I didn’t do, the wasted nights and days on end that I know I’ll never be able to remember and it breaks my heart a little. I feel like collapsing in a heap and screaming for everything I lost and knowing that it was all my responsibility. I did this to me. I drove myself into this space where at best I could manage to contain myself. I think it hurts more today because of a few things…I acknowledged how bad I had let things get tonight. I sat in my group session and tried to explain how I don’t trust my Mother to make me a cup of coffee anymore, or how I’m afraid of being around anything unsafe because it might somehow find its way into me through contamination in the air – that isn’t even a real thing! I screwed up guys. Also last night, I couldn’t and still can’t get my head around the fact that I am going to be stopping my life again. Who’s going to take my brother to his class? or give him a safe space to talk in? Who’s going to be taking over at work? What if I become irrelevant, forgotten? In addition my brother’s instructor was talking about going back to Uni in September and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I wasn’t. I want to go back so badly that it’s beginning to physically hurt me. You know that deep pain that takes a stab at your stomach and heart every now and again. All I want is normality and sometimes it’s a bloody struggle to work out why that’s such a hard thing to have.

I’m not usually one to do the whole “life’s not fair” thing but I am feeling it at the moment. I’m in the middle of editing a written piece for an event next month and as I’m going through it, seeing my past structured into sentences and paragraphs and I can’t help but feel horrible about it. This is or was my life and I can’t escape that. Usually I can make peace with it. I can be mostly over it. Yet there are some days when history doesn’t feel like history and it eats me alive.

I need to move on.

I hope your day has been good to you.

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