Restricting my calories every single day is sort of like (still) having an abusive partner, only this time, I can recognise it, if that makes sense. What ‘he’ did to me, once I allowed myself to confront it, that is, left me a shell of the person that I once was. No self confidence, worth or esteem. I’m as low as I have ever been and every single day I relive what he did to me. Yet, I convinced myself that I couldn’t be without him, that’s why I chose to protect him for the year and avoid thinking about what he was guilty of doing. Sacrifice fixing myself, my sanity to keep him have the water, when in reality I should have let him sink the second he did what he did to me.
Fucking around with my eating and severely restricting my intake is also abusive, I am not a fool, I can quite easily recognise that fact. But, on the other hand its highly euphoric, distracting from the rape when my stomach is churning and the hunger pangs hit and honestly, pathetically perhaps I have missed feeling in control, I really have.
Things have taken a dark turn, yes. I don’t feel strong enough even more to try and make them better anymore. I have to ask why, you know? Why does he get to think he has gotten away with this? Why should I be expected to sit and accept what he did?
Why do people jump in and think it’s a mental ex or because I don’t want him to move on etc, when it’s just someone who was fucking raped looking for some sort of justice? Is that really so hard to see? I’m crying my eyes out while writing this, I am so exhausted and fed up.
Why should it only be ripping me and mine apart? I did absolutely nothing, he did. I just don’t want to be here anymore, I can not keep trying so hard to just make it through a day. I don’t have the energy, guys. He has robbed everything from me, and he gets to not have to think about it, to not torture himself, daily just to find some sort of coping mechanism.
I can’t keep this up. I know myself and I know I have reached breaking point now, and I’m scared. I watch myself waste away slowly, and I don’t think I even care. I reason with myself that I must be a bad person. Perhaps I brought what happened on myself? Perhaps if I wasn’t so pathetic, weak, and just all round a complete waste then I would have had higher standards? I thought he was perfect at first, everyone did, but perhaps he looked at me and only saw a pathetic person ripe for the picking?
I don’t know, but what I do know is that it has left me absolutely hating myself. I feel dirty and disgusting and nothing gets rid of those feelings. Nothing.