There are times when I *think* of asking for help. But in my darkest moments, wehn I am at my weakest and most vulnerable, I can't do it. I learned as a young child that vulnerability is not safe. If someone sees my vulnerable side, it quickly turns to fear and I shut down, emotionally. There are things from my past that rise up and haunt me when I least expect them.
And these feelings never go away. Ever! And it seems as though as quickly as I rebuild something, it falls apart twice as fast. I'm falling fast inside this illusionalry dream-world of illogical rationalizations and self-destruction. The enemy is me, I fight myself every day, even when I sleep.
And no one seems to understand how strong these thoughts are these past few weeks. No one seems to understand the fear, the anxiety that I feel even walking into the kitchen. I can't even look at food without arguing with myself - eat, don't eat, eat, don't eat. And if I do eat, the argument that pursues is purge, don't purge, cut, don't cut.
And no one seems to understand how strong these thoughts are these past few weeks. No one seems to understand the fear, the anxiety that I feel even walking into the kitchen. I can't even look at food without arguing with myself - eat, don't eat, eat, don't eat. And if I do eat, the argument that pursues is purge, don't purge, cut, don't cut.
In my *real* life, I joke about it, laugh it off.... which is a way to keep things at surface level. But deep inside, I wait for someone to free me from my self-created hell. Of course, I do know that all they can do is find the key and unlock the gate. I am the one who must step outside of the borders I've created.
I did see my therapist yesterday. As soon as I collect my thoughts into some type of "verbal" format, I will write about it.
