I have spent this morning crying my eyes out. It sounds so pathetic, I know. I feel kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place currently. I have mentioned before my reasonings behind purging or restricting; to feel in control of what goes into my body; because I wasn’t in control when he raped me, was I? So I have been left with this overwhelming need to have that control, it just shows itself in a destructive way I guess.
I’m also taking a daily antidepressant, to just get through the day. That tiny little white tablet has made me numb to most things, which I don’t particularly like in all honesty, but I see that it is needed for the time being. It has also brought my appetite back. That, I hate.
So this morning I stepped on the scales, 135lbs, it broke my heart, because what does that show? It shows that I am still not in control, not really, not properly. I’m still that weak person who couldn’t push someone off, aren’t I? I’m still that weak person who pretended everything was ok even though everything was so far beyond being in control, in my control.
And you know, I don’t like knowing how many calories there are in 7 cherry tomatoes, or in 3/4 of a babybel, I don’t like fixating on things, but I don’t like the lack of control even more.
I feel disgusting. I feel like real vermin, you know? Most days I am able to pin the blame on him and lay all of this shit at his door, where it belongs. But sometimes I throw it at myself; like today and just detest myself, so much.
What am I even meant to do anymore?
I’m going to curl up and just carry on crying, what else am I actually good for?