Everything is great. I'm productive, light restricting, exercising and pretending to be functional. I actually start to think that maybe things are turning around. Just maybe I actually am getting better. Maybe my meds do work. Maybe I can overcome this hell. Then bamn. I run into someone or something that triggers me. My old residence manager, my weigh in was bad, I don't lift as much as I wanted to, I ran out of bananas. Literally anything. It could be the tiniest thing. Sometimes it's nothing. And all of a sudden every thing sucks. My skin is itching to be cut, I just want to see blood drip. I want to scratch away at the skin covering my bones. I want to cut the fat off my stomach. I'm losing control. What I crave so much, and strive for every day but now I'm losing it. I leave my house in a fury and jump on the first bus that will take me to a grocery store. Cookie dough, chocolate, oreos, whipped cream, pizza pops, pretzels, peanut butter, and ice cream all go into my basket. Realizing I probably shouldn't be spending this much money on food I know I'm going to purge, I slip some into my coat pockets and bag before heading to the cash register. I have about 20$ left this week for food, since my shopping trips are so small from restricting during my good days. I spend it all. I start eating on the bus ride home, doing my best to seem in control and not shoving food in my face as fast as I can. I get back to my house hoping to run down to my room before my housemates see me and start a conversation. I'm so fucking inpatient. They've gotten good at noticing when I'm not doing well. I run down to the basement and through the curtains into my room, hoping that no one decides to go play video games in the adjacent room. I sit down and open boxes of cookies and peanut butter and realize I forgot cutlery. Screw it. I dip the cookie in peanut butter, put a piece of chocolate on top and spray out some whipped cream. I take a bite. Finally. Relief. I feel so damn great now. I eat more and more until I am no longer in control. My stomach no longer wants food, but my brain still does. I head to the bathroom and purge a bit so I can shove more food in. This repeats until I get into the shower for my final purge. I purge and purge as burning hot waters sprays onto my back. Drinking water coming out of the shower head to avoid big clumps of food coming out that will clog the drain. When I'm finally empty, the sense of security comes back to me. I'm in control. I can do whatever I want. I get out of the shower, put some clothes on and go back to my homework, or practice as if nothing had happened. This lasts a couple of hours until I start having flashbacks to all the food I ate, how I lost control, how pathetic I am, reach for my blade, lighter or simply start scratching. I then give up. Pop a couple pills and head to bed, so the monster in my head will calm down for a bit. Maybe tomorrow will be better I tell myself as I drift into sleep.
-Niqi
xoxo
