I've been slipping into relapse for a few weeks now. I've been lucky enough in the past to be able to stop myself, to be able to throw on the emergency brakes, to be able to realize what I'm doing and be able to keep myself from falling down into the black hole that is and eating disorder. This time I haven't been so lucky. It's gone too far and gotten too intense. I'm afraid that I won't be able to get out of this on my own.
I'm so quickly running out of energy for anything. I'm exhausted. I feel like a hamster that keeps running and running and running on a wheel that can't stop. I so desperately want someone to reach into my little cage and stop the wheel, or even better, pull me out of the wheel. But I know this won't happen. Even if I were screaming for someone to help get me out, no on would.
When I've asked for treatment in the past no one has listened. No one has taken me seriously. Why? Because everyone has such high expectations of me. Everyone thinks that I am strong, I can handle anything, so I will be able to pull myself out of this on my own. Well, clearly that hasn't panned out as everyone would have wished. Everyone, including myself. What happens when no one listens to me when I use my voice? I use my body. They are just re-inforcing the belief that I'm not worth more than the weight on the scale, that I have to use my body to convey how I really feel. It's frustrating.
I pray that next week when I go into see my nutritionist that she takes me seriously when she sees that I've lost a whopping 10 pounds in the past week and I've still got a good 5 days before I see her again. But who knows? I'm probably not emaciated for her enough yet. I clearly wasn't sick enough for my doctor to take me seriously.
I'm exhausted. I'm out of energy. My emergency brakes are worthless at this point. I'm at a loss for what else to do.
These days I'm praying for help and for people to listen to my voice before I have to use my body to an extent that I'm on my death bed.
