Tag Archives: dying

Business As Usual

I want to say something profound, but there is nothing new.

I have gained weight.

I am starving.

And bingeing.

And purging.

And dying.

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Nightmare

I had an eerie, vivid nightmare last night. I woke up in a cold sweat, clinging to my boyfriend in terror, adrenaline coursing through my body. I could recall every disturbing detail:

In my dream I was at my house except it was a house I had never seen before. It was old, run down, decaying. Everything seemed to be dead. The grass and trees and flowers, all a red-gold brown in the dying light. I was moving my couch into the garden. The couch was dirty, full of holes and worms, all manner of creeping things slithered across it. I seemed to be there for a long time, unaware that it was night and I was alone.The house stood forlorn behind me and I heard whisperings of a presence which I tried to deny. Then the gate opened and something beastly and menacing came in uninvited. I couldn’t describe this presence as it was more a sense than a sight, unlike everything else in my dream which was sharp and in focus. I can recall how everything looked in minute detail, but this was demonic.

I asked it to leave my garden, to get away from me and I started to back away from the threat emanating from it. With a startling speed it pounced and enveloped me. I started fighting it, but it overpowered me like a cloak of darkness. I flailed and railed against it. I was lashing out, but it held me. I started to panic and then I started to beg to be set free. It would not release me. There was a moment where everything froze, I stopped struggling against this evil thing. There was a hiss and a sizzle like a candle being snuffed out. Except it wasn’t a candle, it was my life.

In the moment I realized that my life had ended so mercilessly, abruptly, the only thought I had was to call on God.

***

After I woke up, my boyfriend asked me what my nightmare was about. Usually I tell him that I am being chased of pursued by something I can’t see. This time I was shaking with fright, on the verge of tears. It was so real and so horrifying. I knew without a doubt that the demonic presence was my eating disorder. I couldn’t go back to sleep because I was so distressed by the dream, by the overwhelming feeling of being tormented by a demon. My boyfriend held me, after I had been pushing him away all night, but I was too scared to close my eyes. It seemed to be hovering there, waiting for me.

All these hours later, it is as haunting as if it had just happened. I feel a dread within me that I cannot explain.

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Dying to Live

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“The truth is, I don’t think that you are going to live very long,” he told me last night. He said it just like that. This man pressed all the wrong kinds of buttons and even though I was crying uncontrollably, I asked him to drive me home. “I just want to help you get better. Why are you running away?”

Because the truth hurts. This week I had the same thought about dying – I just won’t admit it to him. I lay writhing in agony after a particularly bad binge that followed on the heels of an insane amount of laxatives being put into my system. My kidneys hurt all the time. My legs cramp. My stomach aches excruciatingly. Suddenly it occurred to me that I might kill myself (unintentionally). I lay in the dark, alone, and wept for home and for my mother. I want so badly to live; to love life; to be free. Dying would be a terrible mistake. It is not at all what I intend to do.

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