I know that sounds crazy, but the things she has been saying to me lately, it seems possible. At dinner the other night, she insisted I have some grilled chicken with my salad. But when we decided to share a slice of pie, she let me take one small bite and then said that was plenty. When my father offered me another bite, she scolded him for “pushing food” on me. He insisted that if I wanted more, I could have more. She has told me that I can’t have things because I’ll get fat again.
At dinner with them on Christmas, I ate whatever I wanted, simply because I have been so incredibly hungry all the time lately. My mum, when my dad wasn’t in the room, told me I wouldn’t be able to eat for a week after this. She also told me that she didn’t want to have to buy me all those clothes again in a larger size. Anytime I went to eat something, she said that was plenty. I felt so disgusting. Her words have been playing over and over in my head.
Those words forced me into another fast, I’m 38 hours into it and the only reason I haven’t had a single bite of anything is because I keep hearing her say “you won’t be able to eat for a week.” I was so worked up last night that I wanted to cry. I was so hungry and I have some safe snacks by my bed, munchies and all, but I physically could not make myself eat anything. I tried to cry, actually, but as usual nothing came out. There really is nothing more heartbreaking than wanting to eat, needing to eat, having food to eat, but not being able to because the voice in your head tells you that beauty is more important than the growling stomach and dizzy spells. I know I am punishing myself for eating and gaining so much weight, almost 8 pounds, Fuck you very much.
I know my mum means well, she is a big lady herself. I also know that if she EVER found out about my eating disorder, she might try to kill herself. She has enough mental and physical health problems of her own. She doesn’t need to know that what she is doing, her way of helping, is actually contributing to my slow suicide. So there will be no recovery for me, no getting help, no stopping. This will kill me and I can only pray it happens after she has already passed away.
I can’t bear the thought of being a disappointment to my parents, I’ve done that for most of my life. Nothing I do seems to go right. I know they will never have grandchildren or even a son-in-law. I will never fall in love because I don’t deserve love. No could ever love me anyway. I work shitty jobs despite having multiple degrees. I’m ugly and fat. I’m rather stupid. I’ve been told I’m selfish, and I believe that to be true. So I have disappointed everyone quite enough. At least while I’m losing weight they all have something for which to be proud. In the end, I just want someone to love me, the real me, not the acts I put on. I want someone to see my broken side and not run away. I want to share so much but it just hurts in the end. Ultimately, I will be sad and alone forever. And I accept that.