It’s like a hole in my chest.
It’s like I’m always looking for something I’ve lost many years ago. I don’t know what exactly it is. Something like affection. Something like love. This hole hurts me so much that I take strong medications (codeine, tramadol, anxiolytics, sedatives…) even if I know it won’t solve the problem. It only makes it worse.
One of my closest friend suffers from bulimia since she’s 14. She’s currently 20. She has a boyfriend for 1 year and half, and their relationship is serious. I really admire this couple because they accepted each other with their differences, their troubles. They take care of each other, they find strengh in each other. They look so bright together, so lovely.
And I’m always wondering how it feels to be loved like this. To be loved despite my eating disorder, my anxiety, my scars, my pain. How it is to be so intimate with someone.
It’s when I’m alone, laying on my bed at the middle of the night, desperately seeking sleep, that his hole become deeper and deeper. I have to say, I need love, I need people, my friends, my family, I need they say “I love you”. I need to know I’m alive, I’m important for someone. I need to feel love. I need someone who take care of me like I take care of my family.
But my mouth stay close, because I don’t want to annoy anyone, I don’t want them to think I’m weak, like a poor scared child.
Inside of me, I’m convinced I’m not good enough. I’m convinced it’s normal if people leaves me, because I’m worthless.
And everyday, I have these two voices inside my mind. The first one is begging for love, the other is yelling that I’m a fat, idiot girl who deserve nothing.
Please, love me.