Having an eating disorder isn't easy.
Being diabulimic makes me angry.
Maybe I don't say that out loud enough. Perhaps I don't give myself enough credit for trying to free myself from my self-created cage. I notice it in flashes. Parts of the day in which I'm still trapped. When I think I'm "okay" I wonder if I really am. It's hard not knowing that. When am I okay? When does this torture that I feel stop?
I don't have an answer really. The binges have gone away. I'm taking my insulin, but I feel weak. I feel like the thin piece I keep grasping, the piece that fights back every other thought and instinct, is about to crumble under the pressure. If it does, I don't know what will happen. When things go wrong I feel like everything starts to spiral out of control. It's so hard for me to "go with the flow." I just feel like that's impossible for me right now.
I lost my job. My last day was on my birthday. I knew it was coming, and I tried to find another but I failed. I failed at that. I made money for my family, I could provide them with groceries, gas, and whatever else was needed. Now I cannot. This makes me useless. For the past three days I have felt like crawling into bed and never getting out. I feel on edge about absolutely everything. I keep trying to say it in a way that makes someone understand, but I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear it.
I wish that there was an answer, but right now there isn't.
I'm sorry this isn't happier. Maybe next time.