CW: depression, eating disorders, unhealthy coping
7pm tonight
I got home from work almost two hours ago. I fed the cats. Got the mail. Turned on the oven to make dinner. And promptly got into bed where I’ve been crying on and off ever since. Interspersed with Facebook scrolling. Depression is such…
My brain is fighting hard right now. I’ve been reflecting on what has made me happy in the last day. Thinking about the people around me that love and support me. That I can reach out to anyone of them right now and “know” they would listen. (whether I do is a different story) White knuckling mindfulness misses the point, my fucking brain…
My chest feels heavy. Like a boulder is resting on me. Sitting up is just too much (I tried, and laid right back down). I keep holding my breath. Which is likely making my headache worse. The thought of not eating feels so much easier than even grabbing a piece of bread. That would require me getting out of bed and walking downstairs. The chocolate on my bedside table would be easy to grab. It isn’t safe. It would just set me up to be tempted to purge. Besides I just don’t want to eat. Too. Much. Effort.
A friend (earlier today) offered to bring me food or drinks, asked how they can support me. I didn’t have an answer for her then, or now.
Today I don’t have the story of how I got through it, what clicked so I could clear away the brain and feel better about the world. No song of processing or inspiration. I’m in the thick of it. I doubt why I’m even typing this and will I even hit publish? Why I started writing, was being honest about eating disorders and evolved into living with mental illness, breaking down stereotypes and myths. Erasing this would erase my experience, or sharing the face of depression.
10pm tonight
My hunger got the better of my brain so I made dinner at 7:30. I put my phone down. It got me downstairs. I put on Jessica Jones waiting for food to be ready. I ate at least half of my dinner. Then I got disgusted and threw out (composted) the rest. As I was putting dishes in the dishwasher I felt it —
Numbness.
It’s safe and comfortable. No strong emotion, no rash actions, nothing but numb. I won’t be here for too long — at most until tomorrow when I see my therapist. Even if I wasn’t seeing him I will see someone tomorrow that could recognize it. Or anyone that reads this tonight.
I know I will be OK eventually.
It sure as fuck does not feel that way right now.