Tag Archives: Anger

I hate that you…

I hate that you

made me think that I was weak

that I was meek

that I was childish

that I was a child

as an adolescent

as an adult

.

I hate that you made me

make me

feel useless

worthless

.

But now,

now…

that you are scared

that you are older

that you are getting old…

you are afraid

.

You are afraid

of being alone

and stuck

with no one

nothing

no help…alone

.

And now,

now…

you turn to me.

Now,

now,

you want my help.

You cry,

you pine,

you hint

hint hint hint

damn your hints

damn them.

Damn you.

Damn you…for thinking

thinking that you

can turn around

and want me now…

when you don’t want me,

but you want something for yourself.

It’s about you.

Always about you.

Well damn you.

Damn you.

You’ve fucked me over,

you’ve fucked me up,

fuck you.

STOP IT. STOP MAKING ME FEEL OLD. STOP MAKING ME FEEL OLD, STUCK, ALONE.

THAT I WILL NEVER HAVE ANYTHING OR ANYONE BECAUSE I WILL BE STUCK WITH YOU.

THAT’S NOT FAIR.

THAT’S NOT FAIR.

please…please…please dear Jesus…stop…leave me alone…leave me alone…

leave me

please

leave

me

.

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He’s in Love…

Tonight I found out

that

…he’s in love.

He’s in love

but

she

is

not

me.

To be fair

he didn’t know

I loved him

…I suppose.

I suppose. To be fair.

But…

tell that to my heart.

The heart doesn’t understand what is fair.

It only understands

that it

hurts.

It only understands

that it hurts

that love hurts.

And it asks

why.

why

why

why

do you do this to your heart

?

why

do you put it through such pain

?

why

.

leave it alone.

and so eventually it learns to stop loving

to stop feeling

so it doesn’t risk the hurt again.

it grows cold.

it goes dead.

you grow jaded

you go rigid.

guarded.

you guard your heart.

Stay out damn love, stay out damn hurt, stay out

stop feeling, stop thinking, stop wanting, stop hoping, stop willing

stop stop stop

it only aches

it

only

aches.

Maybe,

no,

it is

all that you

deserve.

And you say,

heart, damn heart…I’m sorry…

I’m sorry for bestowing this grief unto you.

What did I do…what have I done

to harm you?

I’ve done too much

not enough.

I’ve wronged.

And you

must pay

the penance.

Be still my heart.

Be still.

I will guard you and keep out the love that hurts you.

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And it said…

 

FORGET the past.

DARE to dream that you are more than the sum of your circumstances.

Expect

the

best.

.

.

.

.

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You didn’t know…

You won’t remember

but I do.

I remember.

I remember

Christmas

anger

screaming

tears

Storming up stairs

closing the door

locking it

hiding behind locked door.

 

But you didn’t know

what happened after,

did you?

 

You didn’t know that I

did not cry myself to sleep

curled into a ball.

 

No.

 

You didn’t know…

that what I really did

was sit

sit

sit

in front of the wall

below the window

in front of the bed

in the corner

in the dark.

 

And I stared.

Stared

at the empty dark wall

with a stoic face

with dried tears

with an empty soul.

 

You didn’t know

that that’s where I think I learned…

I learned…

I learned to be numb.

 

 

 

 

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Dealing with the feelings

I don’t deal well with feelings.

I guess I eat my feelings. Avoid my feelings. Run away. I’m actually really uncomfortable just talking about this right now.

From my own past and current experiences, these feelings encompass those of regret, anxiety, fear, shame, guilt, worry, stress and self-hate.

Personally, I feel deep, deep angst, anxiety, shame and anger over being too late to change. Since I continue to engage in destructive behaviors, I constantly worry that I am too late. Every single day that I continue to binge – yeah daily-  is another day that my swollen stomach is ruined. These are the thoughts that go through my head – rational or not. I fear that I have eaten and binged for so long that my body is one giant sugar hole…just a giant blob. The feelings are reinforced every time I lift up my shirt and see my bloated, thick stomach – where I once used to have definition years ago.

What happened to me? What happened to that athletic, lean girl that would never, ever engage in such extreme and unhealthy behaviors? What happened to the girl with self-control…and self-respect.

That girl would hate who I am and have become. Would spit on her. Disgusting, vile; binging and sticking her feelings down her throat in a vain attempt to get up anything – but unsuccessful because her body won’t let her. The inability to purge leaves me feeling worse – far more bloated and full…and feeling fat, sugary…sick. Sick, very sick.

Feelings are an extremely difficult thing to face when battling an addiction – including an eating disorder from BED to bulimia to AN (note: I find it hard to talk about AN in particular; I think it makes me angry – angry that I don’t have that self-control and ability to restrict and starve myself. Yes, it makes me god-damned angry. I apologize for that). Whether you are dealing with depression, social anxiety, alcoholism, crack addiction – they all share the common characteristic of the need to escape feelings and your mind, your thoughts, your issues, your self, through the dependence of some substance.

Most people resort to addictive behaviors in order to escape feelings – escape actually feeling whatever emotion pops up, whether it be anger, sadness, loneliness, fear, etc. While some people indulge in TV, an occasional glass of wine or music, others aren’t able to do that. For a long time, and still even now, I thought that meant that I was weak, that there was something wrong and little of me to resort to ridiculously unhealthy behaviors. Why the hell couldn’t I just take a nap when I was stressed? Why couldn’t I go to a movie – without buying bags of candy? Why couldn’t I just read a book, make a nice meal when I was sad, tired or angry…why, why, why? Instead, I dove into bags, yes bags (plural) or chocolates and an entire box of cookies.

Every. Night.

I still do this. I cannot hide the fact or even try to pretend I’m “healed”. Not even close. I say I am in recovery – but only because I am acknowledging the problems. I have not stopped engaging in them however.

I am ashamed. Every day, not just the weekend, not just two nights a week; not just a certain time of month. No.

Every night.

For the last 10 to 12  months of pure, solid binging on unhealthy, horrible foods. (I’m not just talking about “good”  foods).

And I hate myself.

I hate myself.

I am learning, and trying to actually believe, that it’s not a matter of something being “wrong with me” or being too weak and ignorant to not engage in these destructive habits. No, it’s about more than that.

The books and experts tell me that I am not a horrible person. Rather, they exclaim that I, the addict, cannot simply turn to healthier alternatives (such as a bath, book or a friend) because they are not strong enough right now to help me, us, face the fears, issues and deep-rooted emotions felt.

Okay, I read it.

I almost know it.

I might almost believe it.

But the voice in my head doesn’t care.

It still tells me I am a loser and will always live my life to the mercy of food and binging.

I am worthless.

That there is no way my stomach will ever be flat again and I will radiate health – not after nightly binges.

That’s the part that I’m struggling with.

That’s where I’m stuck.

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