Thursday, 27 February 2014

The one beyond help...

It's gotten to that stage where I don't even know how to describe how I'm feeling anymore. My moods are so up and down I go from being in a state of calmness, like I am right at this second, to 10 seconds later being upset, 10 seconds later - low, 10 seconds - angry, 10 seconds - scared. I think you get the idea. I just never know what to think of myself anymore. But all I know is that I am not right. I am not normal. I am no where near able to consider myself like everyone else. I am a mess. And that's being kind to myself. My god was I seriously... complimentary.. of myself! 

But today I've realised a lot of things. No matter how much I tell myself that I'm trying to improve. That I'm slowly and surely getting better. That my mind is becoming more stable and my moods improving. Plus my body getting healthier too. I now know this is all one big lie. I'm lying to myself. I'm not getting better. If anything I fear that I'm going backwards. In fact I know I am. I'm becoming more ill. More ill in the head. I lack any control and the things I love are hurting me. I now fear the things I love. I now fear to be who I used to be. I am not normal. The worrying thing is. I don't know if I want to be either. 

Now you may say there is nothing wrong with wanting to be an individual. But I am obsessed. And from things I'm obsessed with I now know I'm not alone. But these are the same things that are making me worse. I almost want to be worse than them. Yet at the same time better. How does this work? I guess the truth is I don't even know what I want anymore and I'm not sure if I care either. In fact the way I'm going, I don't think it will matter anyway. I'm not going to get better. Deep down I know that's the truth. It's because I know in all honesty I don't want to get better. I like the fact I'm slowly declining as it gives me a reason to accept why I'm a failure. 

Everyone says to me that when I'm better my whole attitude will change. Everyone says as soon as my moods balance out, my body returns to health, that in myself I will be happier. Have a more positive outlook at life and maybe will achieve what I truly want. But thinking about it, why should I? Why should I make myself happy? I don't deserve it. And what's to say even if my 'mind' magically does improve to 'normal' that I will actually be happier and not a failure. Maybe the only true way for me to achieve anything is to change what I want to achieve. And I know that the one thing I'm good at is being miserable, upset, low, and obsessive. So why not specialize in that? But of course this doesn't make me happy either. The opposite in fact.

I feel I'm not even making sense. But I think that's because I don't even make sense to myself. I have no control over my life anymore. I am being controlled. By a force that is twisted and telling me that I'm a mess. My mind is one big blur and a constant state of confusion. I know what I should do to really help myself but I refuse to allow myself that help. I don't deserve help and maybe I like not being helped. Maybe I like the sense of constantly being a let down. At least if I'm disappointed in myself it makes it all the easier for other people to be disappointed in me too.

I realise this post is extremely negative. I never intended to be so negative. Not this week. I planned for any blog posts this week to be one of my strength and recovery. Seeing as it's National Eating Disorder Awareness week and I wanted to be able to write about how well I've done to overcome such a serious mental illness. But even if I don't see it as bad a mental illness as I had before and see other mental problems being more of the cause, as much as others say it's just an eating problem. I know I'm not well. If I was really well I wouldn't have the sense of self loave in me. I wouldn't be as obsessive with my eating times. I wouldn't love exercise so much that if I don't do it I hate myself to the point I find it hard to eat. Well I don't. Which is all the more problem as I won't let myself eat before I've decided it's the appropriate time. So if I betray this I feel I let myself down and then resent myself. So I guess this is a form of an eating disorder.

So I think we've concluded I'm not sound in the head. I'm not getting any better and if I'm honest I don't want to either. I like being the one that people look at with despair. Otherwise I'd simply fade into the background and have no excuse for being the state and mess I am. So no I'm not recovered and no I have no intentions of dramatically changing. I guess eventually I'll get what's coming to me and will eventually disappear. Which by then I'll be simply known as the girl who refused to be helped. 

Emily x

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