It's wearing me out, battering the life out of me, a little more each day. I wake up weaker, find it in me to be srtonger then end the day feeling like I've been sucked a little drier.
Last night was bad.
Just the sight of the food they'd cooked me, pathetically sat there- the 4 oven chips, 2 limp undercooked vege fingers and what looked like a mountain of sweetcorn & peas on my less-than-dinner-sized plate, boiled an anger and rage within me that I thought I would tear my own limbs from my body before even being able to sit down at the informal breakfast bar evening meal location, in my own messy kitchen with Kerrang Radio blarrin' out in the background.
I actually believed there and then, I would slip into a coma of anger and despair the second I picked up a forkfull.
I will spare the detail of the next painful half hour where the thing that saddens me most was my son leaving the kitchen with a nervous smile and jokey over-tones in his comments that he was gonna go watch some TV or somethin' and leave me & hubby to 'bickle at each other' or words to that effect.
I manged half of that meal, washed down with soda & polite sips of Ameretto over ice.
Then the pain set in for real.
Hubby got my meds, far earlier than usual, cancelled the regular Monday night supermarket run (which I don't go along to anymore) and sat with me while I was shaking, crying and totally overwhelmed with what just happened.
It all came out.... I explained over and over that the evil that is in me, isn't an eating disorder- it's a raging evil that is coped-with with the ED.
It is coped with by starving.
It is coped with by drinking (sometimes), by shopping, by going to work everyday and putting 110% into my job.
When i'm a normal to above normal body mass, it is coped with by all the above, including bouts of self-harm out of frustration, by over-partying- I could go on but the point is, as I explained to him- I simply have to 'cope' in some way because this evil- this goddamn evil inside me NEVER goes away, no matter how well I look, how well I functon, how well I convince myself and the world that I'm ok.
And that's why I feel like I have lost the fight again.
Nothing ever changes. Years go by and I hope I am ok (I know i'm not). Less help becomes available because I never get 'cured' and no-one can ever find a way to help me for good. So I get through on the basis that I 'look' ok and function.
I can't do that anymore..... the thought (the thought i've had for too long now) that I could spend the rest of my life fighting this, depresses more than I can deal with anymore.
And although lack of food, is NOT the answer, it is the only thing right now that can dampen the pain. As hubby told me 'then they'll blame you feeling this way on the anorexia and treat you for that and not help you with the 'evil' you keep on about'
I know what he means.
But right now, I just don't know what to do next.
Appointment with new therapist on Thursday.
Someone out there must know something..... MUST know a way out. Please share with me. Please help me.
I'm not mad. But i'm getting there.