Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Drifting body it's sole desertion. Flying not yet quite the notion
So I'm running out of ideas on what to write; it seems as though I've pored pretty much all I can trust the world to handle. This whole blog started out as a way for me to vent; to let go of the darkness and hope to one day educate those who have never lived through this hell. I honestly believe that if I never had my eating disorder I would be far more successful. I would have remained in soccer and I would be so much better. The constant purging drove me away from singing for a while, because I couldn't stand the constant burn on my throat. I could be able to memorize things with so much ease, but now I actually have to struggle. The constant paranoia has led me to become someone that I'd never wanted to be; someone lonely, dark, and full of secrets that not even I can handle. Whenever I reach a limit (which tends to happen from time-to-time during recovery), I can't help bunt want to fall back. To starve; to surrender myself with nothing but the walls in my room. I want to tell someone, but what good will that do? People don't want to listen. I'm just a disposable thing, that is only used for giving, but never worthy enough for receiving anything in return. Not that I want anything, of course; but it would be nice to have some sort of friend whom I can actually rely on from time-to-time. Maybe that's just too good to be true.