Now what?

The author of this blog has passed away, due to an overdosing on laxative pills.

Just kidding. I am alive.

Day one, woo hoo. The pain came at 7:30am, that familiar pain yups. Severe diarrhea and stomach pain three times? I would've continued in my mini-coma like last time I overdosed, sleeping until 2pm, goodness gracious. But my friend texted me. He needed to talk! So I was able to get up. Seriously, my mom calling me to get up was not working.

Offering table at church, drink lots of water and have one banana after much internal debate. Nap a tiny bit, freezing cold. Moment I got home, CRASH in bed but GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH another friend texted, needing help sorting sheet music at school. I had to go.

But before I went, mama FORCED me to eat lunch. I did not want much lunch, not on this day one of my new diet, but she got mad and then got really serious and scary and I still did it. She said... she feels like crying so hard, at what's happening to me in this family. She doesn't know how to help me, she feels hopeless. I need an eating disorder counselor, my current therapist is not working, she said. I confessed about the laxatives, just spat the words out. I was so angry, scared, frustrated, that I started laughing. I must be insane. Hey, instead of an eating disorder specialist, or behavior therapist, just drop me off at the asylum.

I still cannot digest these things. I avoid eye contact, I eat (not badly, today thank God) and without words, I numbly unconsciously chant "I don't believe this I don't believe this this isn't happening, this can't be happening, I don't like this at all please stop." I'm such a coward. I can't face anything. And I finally, finally cried for the first time in weeks.

Progress! I can cry again! Not too numb. I hope I burst into tears in some public spot and make a whole huge dramatic commotion.

Filing at school with friends was fun. My hair was not straightened, I was so much fatter than the last time they saw me, so I don't know what they thought. And my yearning to have a guy, just my guy, my future husband/fiancee, came back again, ahhh...

Moment I got home, CRASH in bed. Really sleep this time. I heard mama come in though, and I heard her... I think she just stood there and stared at me for some time. Touched my head too. And then I HAD to go to stupid, stupid choir practice so I had to eat dinner. Food is TOTALLY different to me from yesterday. It was a nightmare yesterday, it had control and numbed me. Today... I still abhor it, but it's not overwhelming. I'm tired.

Choir was as miserable as I thought it'd be. Wanted to cry, but great I didn't. Nap in the car as my mom shopped, and FINALLY can go home to sleep. But great, tomorrow we all have to get up early and now my mom's hounding me like I'm still 10 years old to go to bed, go to bed, blah blah blah.

I still wish, with my immature, naive little self... that someone out there could fix me.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try... to fix you.

You sang so.