Monday, February 27, 2012


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.

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