Through the Looking-Glass

Forever mood : ashamed.

It’s just unbearable.

Why these horrible thoughts don’t go away ? Why am I constantly harassing myself ? I spend all my fucking days thinking about cutting myself, or how I look disgusting, how I’m such an idiot and a failure, and all this sadness, all this dread, angry, hate oh fuck It’s too much to bear and I know I said this a million times before but I can’t take it anymore. It’s too hard, and I can’t even cry, I tried but nothing happened. I hate myself for being so fucking weak, and I want to cut all this fat, see the blood on the floor and feel relieved, damaged again but relieved for a short moment. But if I cut, I will hate myself for not being strong, but If I don’t cut, I’m going insane. 

I want to give up so bad, and well, it will be not so dramatic, no one cares or the ones who know about my disorders think I’m completely retarded and they’re right. When my therapist asked me if I could take another appointment for the next week, I answered that I didn’t know where I will be, but nevertheless I added I took the appointment. And he said he felt reassured. And this, it pisses me off so much, because he acts as if he cares or worries about me but he doesn’t. I’m just another patient, just another fucked up girl with no brain who should go kill herself instead of annoying everyone.

I’m done. I’m FUCKING DONE. 

68005) I don’t know which is worse: the nausea and pain from being full or the nausea and pain from being hungry.

(Source: confessionsabouteatingdisorders, via emaciie)

Just me, being me.

My mom called me on the phone this morning, and tried to be nice to me. She asked me some questions about my eating disorders. She wanted to know how many bulimia crisis I made these last weeks, and she told me that if I needed to talk, she was here for me. She was worried because she never believe me when I tell her I’m not able to vomit, except if my body decides to vomit by itself, which is not quite often. 

She was so kind, and, like always, I pushed her away, I remained impassive and I said I had nothing to say. I didn’t want to talk about this with her. She can’t help me. And, like always, she said I have no reason to do this to myself, she said my life was not so bad compared to her own life. Blablablah. I know mom, I know. I’m sorry. I disappointed you, I hurt you, and you feel guilty because of me. You think you’re a bad mother. But you’re not. You did what you could, you did what you thought it was right. It’s just my fault. You try to be nice and kind, but I’m gone for a long time now. So don’t be kind with me, because I don’t deserve kindness, I only deserve contempt. I’m far away from everyone, and I don’t know how to go back. I don’t even know if I want to come back. I’m away. I’m alone with my own sick mind.

And I made another crisis. I cried and I sweared it was the last time.

Until the next one.   

Randoms thoughts tonight, again.

I’m constantly having this feeling of lack. It seems like I miss something, but I don’t know what. It distresses me so much, it’s like a hole in my mind. And maybe I try to fill it by eating a terrifiying amount of food, and not necessarily with foods I like. It can be anything. I remember one day, there were only pasta sauce and a big jar of gherkins in the fridge. I ate them. Once or twice, I ate raw meat and frozen dough. When I binge, I become completely insane. I can’t even quantify what I eat, it’s just crazy and scary. I hate this, God I hate this so much. Sometimes,  I eat until my body vomit by itself. 

Everyday, I am divided by that urge to fill that hole, that lack, and the desire to be skeletal. It’s a constant battle in my mind, and I never know which side will win. 

It’s almost the same thing when I cut or burn myself. I need to see the blood, I need to feel the pain, as if I miss her. I need to damage this body that I don’t want. I just want to puke when I look at the mirror. 

But, seriously, what the fuck is that shit ? I need something, I miss something but I’m not able to say what it is.

My mind is just completely fucked up. 

67392) My view on what is beautiful has changed dramatically.

(Source: confessionsabouteatingdisorders, via youwillbringbeauty)

67388) The thing that people don’t understand is that I DON’T want a boyfriend. I DON’T want guys looking at me or my body. I don’t even want to be seen.

(Source: confessionsabouteatingdisorders, via disordereating)

Randoms thoughts…

As usual tonight, my head is full of questions without answers, and I am arguing with that part of myself who spends her time trying to bring me down, trying to kill me slowly. You know, that voice who whispers that you are fat, worthless, good for nothing, that voice who whispers that you cannot be happy, no girl, not today, not tomorrow, never. That voice, she locks me up into my sadness and obsessive thoughts. That voice alienates me. Everything I perceive, everything I remember, everything I love, everything I learn is automatically ruined, wasted, tingued with pain and hate. Like a black and white filter. 

And here again, these 2 voices cannot shut the fuck up and I am sitting on my bed, looking like an idiot. 

I am wondering why do I think it is wrong to love oneself, why do I think it is a form of pretentiousness, why cannot I just be kind to myself ? Why cannot I just do it ? Everytime I try, the other voice is here, and reminds me that I am fucking disgusting and selfish. Everytime, I just feel the urge to cut. 

I am wondering why I cannot say I am not fine. I mean, not write it, but actually say it. Say I need help, I need support, I need a human presence. Why do the words stay in my head (when I find them…) ? Everything is so confused. I am acting like I don’t give a fuck and everyone thinks I have no feelings at all even though I am anxious and sad. I don’t know how to be authentic with others. I only know how to pretend and lie. 

I try to understand myself. I try to understand what is happening in my mind when I want to binge. I try to understand why do I want to be so scrawny, why do I want to cut, why do I hate this body so much ? And the more I damage it, the more I hate it. It’s a vircious circle. It never ends. 

Well, that’s done, I am terribly annoyed myself with these thoughts. The final question could be “why can’t I just shut up and be a normal girl ?”.

I am sorry, this post is nonsense. 

That’s why I cannot watch or read the news.

Everyone in the whole world is talking about these poor women from Cleveland, who were raped and tortured during ten years by a fucking psychopath. 

And I am just here, being depressed, anxious and shit, having an eating disorder, cutting myself. I am totally self centred. 

Seriously, I do not deserve to live. I disgust myself.