Heartache, Heartbreak

I just feel so lonely, struggling to pick myself up. These past two months have been hell and I’ve never had to cope with so many different yet equally hard situations.

And its as if there isn’t anyone there. I feel like I’m struggling to get through this and I don’t know how to make it better. I’ve resorted to unreal measures to purge and I feel so ashamed of myself. There’s so much hurt, so many doubts, so much self-hatred that the only way out is to purge.

I hate myself, I hate everything about every decision I made, I feel so dirty and horrible and hate every piece of me that went wrong the past 8 weeks. I hate everything. I hate this feeling, I hate the purging, but I hate not purging as well. I feel like its the only thing that can calm me down at the end of the day, when the stress has accumulated over the passing hours.

I’m so stressed out and I just hate everything about myself right now. I hate the decisions I made and how they hurt someone, someone so special. But the decisions have hurt me too. No one seems to realise just how much I’m hurting, how hard the struggle is, how every day has become so dark and filled with hate. I’m hurting so much and I can’t keep this brave face on much longer.

They said it was the right thing. They told me it was the correct choice. But now that its done, now that there’s no way back, why do I feel so broken?

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Letting go

I admit I’ve made some massive mistakes the past 7 days but I know I wasn’t fully to blame.

I’m ready to let it all go. I’m ready to make sure I am never that person who got into such a vulnerable position ever again. Hating myself won’t work. Only when I love myself truly will I never be that vulnerable.

Loving myself is the greatest thing I can do right now.

But why is it so hard?

Why can’t I love myself the way others do?

I’m ready to try. I’m going to be on my own next week when I move to London and although I’m so excited to move…I need to really develop my self-love and self-worth to enable that I’m strong enough to never hurt this way again.

The biggest demon is my scales.

I can’t seem to let them go.

I’m ready to throw out so much stuff that doesnt mean anything to me, or makes me feel bad due to the memories or I simply don’t need on my journey into this new chapter.

So why is it so hard to throw out the one thing that has never been my friend? Why can’t I throw out the sqaure that shows me a number and teaches me to hate myself?

Its only hurting me…but I can’t let them go.

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Stillness

Standing still but my mind won’t stop spinning. I don’t want to hurt like this and I don’t know what’s going to make it stop. I can’t decide which path to take and I know I’m hurting him. I can’t hurt him. I don’t want to break his heart and its breaking mine.

I need my brain to sit still. I need it to stop being a hazy mess but nothing seems to make it any clearer. Nothing is helping, nothing is going to help. I don’t want to put him in pain. I can’t bear to do that but I’m in pain. This decision is breaking me in two and it’s making me ill.

I can barely eat, I can barely sleep, I can barely sit still and I just want to be still. I want everything to be still and silent and empty so I can breathe.

I want this sea of emotions that’s getting darker and rougher to settle, be still and clear so I can do what is right.

I think I know.

But I don’t want to hurt him.

I never wanted to hurt him. Doing that kills me inside. It makes me hate myself.

I don’t want to hurt myself anymore.

I’m hurting enough already.

 

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Be mine

I feel terrible saying this because of what happened last week. I tried to talk about it but it was still too raw, and he felt I was justifying what happened. I do understand that.

But I want to go out. I want my boyfriend to come with me.

To be proud to come out with me. To want to be seen holding my hand.

To show everyone that I’m his.

I hate going to parties and the like without him. Everyone asking why my boyfriend wouldn’t come with me.

I want to have romantic meals, or a walk in the park.

I want him to show me off to his friends and to let me show him off to mine.

I want to go to a party and dance with my boyfriend rather than dancing on my own.

I hate seeing other couples there, holding hands, dancing, cuddling, kissing.

I love him so why does he not want to come for a drink with me, to a party, to a BBQ. He doesn’t even have to pay for it.

Just come with me. Be with me. Outside of the flat.

I want to go to a party, have a drink and a dance but with him. Not with my friends…not having to stop guys from trying to dance with me.

And the more I drink the more I wish he could be there with me, dancing, holding my hand. Just there with me.

So I drink more.

I drank more.

But I have no argument. No leg to stand on. Not any more.

I want to be looked at as though I am the most beautiful girl in the world. I want him to hold my hand on the walk home. I want to be treated like I’m not something to be lost. I want him to be there and just know that he can’t be without me.

I want him to meet my friends and I want to meet his.

I want him to show how proud he is to be mine…

How proud he is, for me to be his…

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Special

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I’ve written it before and I’m about to write it again. Over-achiever, Striver, Never-Satisfied, whatever you want to call it, I am it and once again it came up in my therapy session to discuss why we think i’m still relapsing.

It all came down to something quite straightforward, something I’ve briefly touched upon occasionally in this blog.

I’m not special anymore.

And I want to feel special.

But I’m not.

I’m no longer the athlete with World Records to her name. I’m never going to hear my name announced or have other athletes look up to me when I give speeches. I’m nothing anymore. I’m a nobody. A has-been. I feel invisible, I feel like every other person walking down the street and I hate that. Not from an arrogant perspective but from the perspective of the person who always used to stand out.

I’m no longer doing something that no other law student has managed to do. I’m no longer being asked how training is or how my last competition went. I’m no longer a role model, I’m no longer anything worth mentioning.

I’m just normal. And I can’t stand it. I’m not happy simply being me and I don’t know how to accept that I simply am me. This is who I am right now but I can’t accept it. I wont accept it.

Being the best in sport kept me sane (to a certain extent).

Initially, it made me feel better about my weight, better about the bullies, better about me. I was able to say they were all simply jealous of me, but not anymore. Not now. Not ever again. I’m fat but I’m not an international athlete. I don’t have that status to cover up the issues I bury deep inside me.

I want to be special. I want, to a certain extent, to be admired.

Always second best, never even equal to my brother growing up. Bullied. Called stupid and fat by ‘friends’ and teachers and coaches alike. Never allowed to be satisfied with just being me. So i always pushed for more and I most definitely still do. I was never good enough for anyone so I reached for high grades, good university and challenging career. I pushed to become a better athlete and to win more medals, break more records.

I pushed to lose weight.

To become that ‘ideal’ I needed to be, at least, what I thought I needed to be, but it was never good enough. No one ever praised me or let me enjoy any success. It always had to be more. One more percent, one more second, one more pound. Never allowed to be satisfied with me. Never allowed to let myself be happy with me.

Always second best. Never good enough. And now I’ve lost something that, whilst contributed greatly to my eating disorder, still kept me happy…well…it didn’t did it. Thats a lie. This year it didn’t make me happy and thats why I left. But theres that voice lying to me in my head telling me that if I go back I’ll be happy again.

I know thats not true.

Problem is, I don’t like me at the moment, and I don’t know how to make myself like me at all.