i sat paralyzed in my driveway today.
the spring rain softly pelted the windshield of my parked car.
my heart pounded in my chest and my hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting in my lap.
i just want to try to get better but sitting in math class today all i could think about was how scared i am.
i don’t want to eat. i’m scared of food. i’m scared of the numbers on the scale i look at religiously. i’m scared of the way food feels in my body. it never feels good anymore.
my abdomen always hurts. it always churns. it always feels stiff and uncomfortable. when i eat i just feel an unpleasant lump sitting there in my middle. i feel my body and my throat hoping to expel it before i even swallow and after i’ve eaten.
i’m tired of it. i’m so tired of it.
but i’m scared to change. i’m scared to get better. i don’t know if i can get better. i feel like i’m not strong enough or like i’m making this all up. i feel like maybe i’ve created this for attention.
i called sam last night. even though i set up a boundary that we would be distant but friendly classmates and coworkers since he can’t be my friend and his girlfriend’s boyfriend at the same time apparently. i called him after i sent him a text that said “i don’t think i can wait a year” and he replied “too long huh”.
it was too easy for me to back out. for me to pretend it was about something else. to pretend it was about moving out or about moving on. i didn’t trust myself to text back honestly. so i called him. and i told him while trying to keep my cool that i just can’t do it anymore. i don’t want to.
and he told me it was ok. i was ok. everything was ok. we’d figure it out.
and i felt like i had to apologize to him. because to me this isn’t his problem. this shouldn’t be his problem. i should be able to handle it on my own. it’s not his job to worry about me or to help me or anything. he isn’t obligated to do anything. i feel like even just asking for help implies some kind of obligation for the other person. no one wants to be the asshole that denies someone help. i guess i just have no way of properly gauging who actually really cares about me and genuinely wants to help me at the end of the day. because i feel this way about everyone. i feel bad telling people about the bad things in my life; like i’m asking for sympathy. even when they tell me i can always talk to them for help or for advice. i don’t know how to do it. i feel like i’m burdening them. i feel like i’m taking up too much space. i’m supposed to be small. i’m supposed to be self sufficient. that’s what i taught myself and that’s what i’ve always been taught. i feel like i’m failing. i feel like a failure. i feel like a piece of shit. i feel like i really can’t do anything right.
i feel stupid for ever even taking a step down this fucked up road. i don’t know what else to say. mostly i just really want to talk to someone but i don’t know who to talk to or what to say. and it fucking sucks.