Monday, December 20, 2010

December 20

He keeps me egging me on, "come on Adeline, put that carrot down. Don't you dare put that in your mouth."
I am losing.

This past week has been one of the most tortuous of my entire life.
Depressed, bed ridden, tear streaked face, empty stomach, weak body, cold fingertips, numb mind, suicidal thoughts. Why does life have to be so hard? Life isn't suppose to be this complicated. Life is suppose to be full of challenges and obstacles you have to get around or over; but, life is not suppose to be this fucking tiring, tedious, toilsome. Eight months ago life wasn't this exhausting. Eight months ago I was happy. Believe it or not, I was happy. I think I had to retype that sentence to convince myself rather than you. I remember a time when I didn't want to sleep because everything was going so well. I remember enjoying daily things: checking the mail, brushing my teeth, watching a TV show, listening to a song on repeat, walking my dog. Daily things that every person should enjoy. Eight months ago, I was happy; but now, it is getting so much more difficult to recall that happiness.

"I was happy," I thought to myself this morning, as I sat in front of my mirror, contemplating life and what the fuck I am even doing on this Earth. I do that a lot. Some daily ritual. Sit in front of my shitty mirror, feeling shitty, crying shitty tears, feeling this shitty depression creeping into my bones. It is in my bones.

Adeline, you were happy once.
I was happy once.

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago in a far, far away past, I, Adeline, was happy.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

December 19

Some mornings, right after I wake up, still sleepy, groggy and disillusioned, I convince myself that, "Maybe if you just pretend as if everything is okay, maybe if you just smile and laugh and make jokes and forget about all the shit you've had dumped on you, maybe if you just act as if you are happy, as if everything in your life is going as perfect as it could go, everything will be just fine."

Then, I get up out of bed, wipe my thinning, black hair out of my face and lift it up into a bun at the base of my neck, take a few steps toward my full, body-length mirror-hands down by my side, eyes searching my own for some sort of answer, trying to stop myself from looking down at my body, attempting to form a smile, trying my damn hardest to grab just one happy memory out from the inside of my mind. Then, tears begin to form, hot and stinging. Once again the cold, harsh truth hits like a punch to the stomach. "It doesn't work that way Adeline. It just doesn't fucking work like that."

Some days are easier than others, but most days, most for me, are not at all.

I can feel this creature growing inside of my chest. He is filling himself with anger. With my anger, is how he grows. Anger, betrayal, hatred. All of these things that I feel inside are feeding him, not food, and whatever he needs is what I eat. I cannot eat anger, betrayal or hatred. Those things can only be felt, and each time I feel those, I sense this creature growing. At first he was small, only a tiny seed. Now, quite rapidly, he is progressing. He wants out and sooner or later, he is going to get what he wants because the day will come when I will be too weak to hold him in. For now, I can clench my teeth, ball my hands into fists, cry. For now these things work. But even as I am typing, I can feel his blood beginning to fuse with mine, our thoughts becoming one and the same. Each day I feel as if it is becoming increasingly more difficult to distinguish his wants from my own.

He wont give up, and eventually, I will.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

December 18

Just when things seem to be going well. Just when you start to put one foot in front of the other. Just when you begin to crawl out of bed earlier each day. Just when you catch yourself smiling for no reason at all. Just when your pillow is tear free. Just when you rediscover that laugh you forgot you had. Just when you feel you can inhale without having to hold your breath for months on end because you're frightened you wont be able to catch another breath. Just when happiness is around the corner. Just when you can almost feel your heart beat again.

That. That moment. That day when all of these things happen. That, is when everything goes completely, utterly, irreparably and fucking terribly wrong.

Five. Count them with me: one, two, three, four, five. Five months. Five months of working my ass off. Five months of tears. Five months full of sadness. Five months full of self hatred that somehow multiplied itself to grow and mutate to three-thousand times what it was before. Five months of hoping. Five months of saying, "Just 4 more months," to, "Just 3 more months," to, "Just 2 more months," to, "Just 1 more month." Five months of utter hell. Five months that have now transformed into an ugly fucking ten months. Ten. Count them with me: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Ten.

What am I suppose to do now? Someone, please tell me. What, am I suppose to do? In five more months everything can change. I don't want anything to change. What is someone suppose to do when they have everything planned out and the plan doesn't fall through? What are you suppose to do when your whole foundation crumbles and you are left on the cold, hard, wet floor with tears in your eyes, unable to fucking stand because the pain in your heart is so massive. What are you suppose to do when you don't know what the fuck to do?

How do you live, function, breath?
How do you not lose your faith in all of mankind?
How do you get back up and wipe those fucking tears off of your face so that you can curse the person who fucked you up, screwed you over and broke their worthless, meaningless, shit promise?


Five more months of starving.
Maybe I'll just die before then.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

December 5

"What are you doing to yourself?"
I've asked myself this question too many times in the past week.
I'm starving and I can't bring myself to eat.
I will not be fat.
Fat is failure.
Food is failure.
My bones are aching to burst out from under this fat.
My bones are aching for nourishment.
I am bruising so easily.

I am starting another fast tomorrow.
3 days this time because the 5 days really, really wore me down. By day five I'm pretty sure I wasn't sleeping at all, or thinking straight without the help of loads of coffee, which I didn't mind at all. 3 days should be good. Anyone want to join in?
I hate posting "stats," but I'll definitely post how much I lose each day just to make sure I keep you guys up with my progress. Let me know how things are going for you all, especially now during the holidays. Are you freaking out as much as I am?