Once upon a time there was a girl with an eating disorder trying to find a balance between the good and the bad. She has to deal with the evil demons inside her head, dragons roaring in her stomach, dwarves, giants, fairies and tons of guys pretending to be the knight in shiny armor.
Saturday, 1 September 2012
Good Cop/Bad Cop
I have been so incredibly busy lately. It is just too annoying, not having a moment to yourself to just.. Breathe. I've been moving back up North which took three days, I have been working.. Trying to figure my life out, what I want, what I need. Life is really overwhelming sometimes.
So now I am sitting here, smoking a cigarette back in my old little room. The place where it all went wrong. Last year this room was the end of me, because I was too afraid to embrace the dark. The dark part of me. The good part of me just wanted to crawl back to my parents and defeat a failure; No I can't beat anorexia- and that's exactly what I did.
Good Cop decided that being honest would be better, that after I had tried to get better I should not give into those dark feelings because I would have wasted six months of my life. I did not want to hurt my family and friends anymore because I knew what it's like when people lie to you all the time. I did not want to put them through hell again.
The other part of me hated myself for making the decision, for failing the first time in my life EVER, and drank away her sorrow every other weekend until I had a new mantra "Sorry Liver It's Friday". It's pathetic how alcohol makes things thát much better for me. Especially when it's calorie loaded, it used to make things worse. Now I just rather drown in my sorrow than think of how fat it will make me.
It's not that I eat anything anyway.
Yesterday in the car up here my mother asked me to promise her that I would keep up the good effort, that I would not starve myself and that I would continue eating the best I can. Mum knows I can't be perfect, that I am not flawless even though we both would love it. We both would love it if I would be her perfect little prize she could show off with but we've accepted that it's not me; it's my twin sis. Which is okay.
I guess, a part of me would love to be the pretty perfect one, has this need to be perfect.
Is that wrong? Or is it natural to strive for perfection?
All I know is that I can't wait for some quiet time to read all my favorite blogs again and to write myself. There are too many thoughts, too many things that just.. Knock me down.