I am the Brutality of Vision

I am sitting in a coffeeshop at the moment, trying not to feel bad about eating a cookie when I have barely eaten anything in about a week.  Welcome to the heartbreak.

The worst part of being an eating-disordered creature is the inevitable, cyclical, sickening slide back into it.  It hurts; it strains the soul; it creates desperation where there should only be acceptance.  Whether this slide is a result of an impossibly bad week (in my case this time), an offhand comment (has happened in the past), or a stomach flu that makes you remember the twisted satisfaction of starvation (has also happened in the past), it is not a happy experience.  In fact it is such a collision of the physical and the emotional and mental that it is impossible to detail.

I don't mind sharing this because I am fairly confident that most people I know have some idea of my own deeply distressing problems with myself.  There is no good way to explain what one goes through when one's brain and body begin to mutiny.  It is weird- obviously.  On a side note, I am sick to think that some unfortunate individuals glorify what I do to myself.. but I do it over and over as if I glorify it as well.  I don't like it but some grooves in my brain are worn so deep they are almost comforting in their exhaustion.  And there you have it, the most upsetting and inhuman part of the game- that self deprivation, deprecation, hatred, starvation and cruelty, can actually be comforting.  Yes.  And sometimes I am simply too exhausted otherwise to fight back.

I know this all seems rather depressing.  And it is. And I apologize for the fear and distress that people may feel in reading this.  But, and this should not be a news flash to anyone, sometimes life is less than thrilling.  Sometimes it is truly a bag of suck.  I have turned over a new leaf in life (is that the saying?).  I am not, by nature, a dishonest person.  But this past week, if nothing else, has caused me to believe that the only way of getting out of bed in the morning is to make a promise to be honest to everyone about everything.  No more fudging the truth.  No more painting over the painful parts solely because they are painful.  Pain is a part of the universe as much as you or I.

The difficult part (as if it could actually get more difficult than what I have already written) is that promising honesty necessarily means promising brutality.  It means promising bad moments and unhappiness and sometimes cruelty.

But there are worse things in life.  See above.

Until next time, friends.  Oh, and everyone calm down.