spiral down

Since Saturday, things have been sort of up and down. Maybe it's a pride issue, but I've been avoiding doing anything that could damage my sense of self - anything that involves decision making. I don't want to make the wrong choice, even if it's something trivial, I worry about whether it was correct or not. I'm more of the suffer in silence type of girl, the kind who won't ask for help when she can't open the jar of honey. If I need help, I'm not likely to ask for it.

It may get me into a lot of trouble, and give me a lot of grief, but if I'm restricting, I don't want support. I want to be alone with my disorder, and learn how to manage it on my own. That is why I say I want to reteach myself how to be anorexic. The decision is not on the fence, it's been made and stapled together by my pride. I am restricting again, and I like it - it gives me control, and allows me to vanish into the crowd. Eating on my own terms again, no forced feeding - I may not be in the throws of my eating disorder again, but I feel it encroaching, and I am scared. Where will it lead me this time? A shivering mass of bones and skin, my feet bound and my hands tied, with no air to breath and no space to move.

It is desperation that leads me to this state, and ever since I was notified that I "wasn't skin and bones anymore," I've been restricting with a vengeance. I want to prove to them that, yes, I can be that girl again, and that yes, I am sick. I am easily influenced by what happens around me, and I haven't had very many good experiences lately. My fuck buddy, is reticent to fuck me because I "look like an adolescent boy," and yet, he was with me during my low point last year - 105lbs. What has changed for him? I wake up beside him, and feel comfortable, and safe. He wakes up beside me and feels a bony waif.

D, also, has not called me back yet, after I left her house and after I left a note. I didn't want to end up b/p-ing so I decided to go home, it was as simple as that. But, I know that the longer someone has time to think on something, it becomes amplified and blown out of proportion. She is avoiding me, and by extension, Gary will be to. I am devastated about how things have turned out, how I always get the short end of the stick. I feel like shit, and I want Gary, or warm arms around me.

So, now I am floating along, not getting better, but getting worse and worse. My psychiatrist has handed me several ways of coping, of dealing, and of moving forward - past all the nitty-gritty. I am resisting that voice inside my head, and am restricting. I want to end this, and get rid of obstacles in my path. I want peace, but the eating disorder is never satisfied.