I had a good friend of mine strike me with a really good question the other day that really made my mind tick… She asked me –
Why don’t you accept help for your ED?
hmmm, good question isnt it?
my answer used to be, that I had tried everything and nothing had worked and nothing can help me. But… since Then, My thoughts have matured a bit.
I can openly admit that even though I have tried many different things, I have never really wanted it to work. I have never put my heart and sole into it. It has always been for the wrong reasons – To get my parents off my back, through force, or because I wanted everyone to think I am better then leave me alone to let my ED thrive. Help threatens its very life, and I can get so protective over it. Its sick. How can I push away all the people I love most in my life and feed of this thing that I so hate, and had single handedly destroyed my life? But it is still a fact, I am unwilling to let it go.
I think every day about how much I wish that I could go and do the long term weight restoration program and intense counseling – make everything right and end this shit and be a normal girl who loves life – I would GIVE ANYTHING!
I can sit here and list all the things that I hate about this illness, and be the best advocate against it with everyone else. I can think up all these words and sayings and poetry to put the pain in words. I have no problem separating me from the disease and realizing that I have to blame it, not myself. I know what the risks are, and even as much as I try to pretend I dont fear them , I am scared every day. I hate looking in the mirror, and hardly ever do – unlike most i hate seeing my bones, I look disgusting. I look sick. I hate that everyone I walk past stares at me and I am this thing that people gossip about. I hate that I have lost university and any chance to be a success. I know that the only way that I can get my life back is to eat.... I know all this .
Doesn’t exactly sound like someone who has failed every attempt made at recovery for the last 5years and has no interest in correcting the long term damage she has done to her heart and bones and refuses any kind of psychiatric treatment, no matter how amazing the person is……
I’m a fucking hypocrite, that’s what I am.
I think the guilt is what hurts the most in all of this. I love my family and my friends so much that I claim I would do anything for them… Yet I can’t and I fail them every time. I feel guilty that I drove my Mum down a hole and into Rehab. I feel guilty that I broke my fathers heart. I am guilty that I cannot be the sister my sister is to me. i feel guilty that I missed my Best friend is the worlds 21st Birthday. I feel guitly for so so much, for everything. But that guilt is never enough to turn things around . And thats SICK! it should be enough!