+__ ?).::r is for reality::.__
_
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Man
wants to live, but it is useless to hope that this desire
will dictate all his
actions.
Albert
Camus
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I never
really took my life seriously, it was all just a game
which could be flittered away.
It didnt
seem to sink in that I only had one chance at this living
thing so I
better
use it and not waste it. I guess no-one ever really
accepts the importance as life,
we just
cant face the harsh reality.
Once my
dad told me about his visit to an old peoples home
where the lady
he was
visiting died almost as soon as he had arrived. He was
just making
conversation
but at that moment I realised how fragile life is and how
I should try
and
protect my body, not hurt it deliberately. Still, a day
later I was back in the
toilets
at school hurriedly shovelling paracetemol (i think these
are called tylenol in the US) down my throat,
washing
them down with black cherry water bought
for that
very purpose. I wonder if perhaps I was so afraid of
death that I felt that I had to cause it myself.
I was
afraid of death quite a lot by this time, I guess I
thought about it more than a lot of people my age
so it
frightened me, not knowing. Maybe I was having a
mid-life
crisis! I always was quite nostalgic, like an old lady!
When my
mouse died I was too scared to admit to myself that it
had in fact died and I blocked it out.
I left
it there for weeks, months even, getting smellier and
smellier, until I was able to whisper to my brother that
it had
died. He
told my mum and she kindly sorted
it out
for me. I couldnt even go to the funeral! They
laughed at me for weeks after that!
While
everyone else concentrated on how to revise for upcoming
exams, they never concerned me,
nothing
ever really did. They all talked about exam timetables
and not
letting stress get too much. That baffled me,
I was
massively understressed considering the exams could
decide the rest of my life. But I would just laugh it
off,
telling myself it would be fine to revise (study) the
night before, if at all.
I hated
the way I left all my work, A-level revision or
coursework, to the night before.
It made
me so angry with myself that I was so lazy when all this
work, and
the
exams, were going to shape the rest of my life. But maybe
I needed to live on the edge
like
that to give me feelings back, to give me excitement in
this big game
that I
was playing. And it was nice to get a buzz and to give my
mind a rest
when I
had to spend every minute of the day, or night,
concentrating on writing this
essay or
learning a book off by heart for the exam the next day.
Still, I
would have done a lot better if Id paid a little
more attention to that tiny conscience
reminding
me that my life was not, I repeat, not, a game and that
this work was vitally important.
It was
great for me when people were able to laugh with me and
joke about some of the things I did to myself.
Sometimes
it was upsetting, didnt they care?
But I
did appreciate the way everything didnt have to be
heavy all of the time.
At the
hospital my twitch began to get worse and I started
throwing peas and orange
juice
and things! Once I dropped a knife and it broke so I
mentioned it to a nurse.
He said
that it was not surprising that it broke if I pushed it
in too far! That was
hilarious,
made me feel much more comfortable!
Because
normally everyone was so serious about my self-harm when
a lot of it was quite funny,
especially
in retrospect.
Really,
its hardly surprising that my life was not serious
to me,
considering
that I often couldnt feel anything at all. How
could I be expected to see life for what it
was when
I was watching my life from a detached position?
The
denial of eating disorders often prevents people from
seeing the reality,
as well
as the fact that they are constantly glamourised in the
media. i know that for a
while
before i really went into anorexia i flirted with it for
a while.
Like
death i saw it as romantic and passionate, peaceful and
calm.
In
retrospect the first word springs to mind if i think of
anorexia is the word 'ravaging'.
Eating
disorders tear you apart inside, that is the reality. The
fantasy is so dangerous as it draws people
in, they
are unaware of the harsh reality that will hit them when
the honeymoon period is over.
Eating
disorders are raw and painful, there is no glamour,
especially
not in
being fed through a nasogastric tube, in being
incontinent,
in your
bones hurting you when you sit down in the bath, in being
able to see your spine through your stomach.
The myth
that they are peaceful is wrong,
oh so
wrong - either that or i went reallyyyyy wrong in my
anorexia and bulimia.
Well, if
you still dont believe me then visit my anorexic mind
page, see what really goes on in your mind during
anorexia.
Add to
that the pain in your body and the indecision, the
isolation as you lock everyone out of your life,
the
secrecy being unable to tell anyone the thoughts in your
mind, just constantly under attack from your head.
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