In sickness and in health

Warning :self harm, suicidal ideation, bulimia, anorexia, mental disorders.

I got sick today. Like really sick.

And I know what you are thinking, why the hell did I just tell you about my five min date with the butt throne.

Well my dear people I am telling you this because it made me feel good.

Yes as I sat there puking my guts out all I could think of was

‘This isn’t so bad at all. A few months of this and I can finally be pretty’

Even know I sit here trying to make more come up because I want to lose this weight. I want to be skinny because to me that equals beauty. Now I do not hold this standard to everyone. People can be beautiful no matter what their size may be but I can’t. I will never be beautiful. I will never be someone who people want to give seconds looks. I am barely someone they want to see at the corner of their eye.

Not to say I believe me to be disgusting but I do find myself to be distasteful…borderline disgusting.

I hate myself so much that for a mins while getting sick I wanted to keep doing it. I wanted it all to go away. I kept thinking about all the disgusting foods I can shove down my throat just to have a reason to puke.

So I can be skinny

So I can be beautiful.

I will like to make a point to say that I also have the flu or a cold..whatever sickness this is I have it.

So I did not set out for today to puke up my delicious chicken tortilla soup with extra sour cream combined with a to die foe root beer float. I would have actually liked to have been able to digest that, thank you very much.

But once it happened, I felt relief. I felt alive.

This reminded me of something though. It reminded me of my addiction to cutting.

Both of these cause me great pain but in the end they bring me the greatest pleasure.

Through the pain I know that I am alive. I feel powerful. I feel beautiful. I feel as though I can finally see the light. Do you know how addicting it can be to have all that when your normal is constant darkness and paranoia. To finally have some clarity.

I can see the colors!

All the pretty pretty colors.

Sadly,

I know how destructive this can be. I know what it looks like for someone to starve themselves to lose weight. I know what it looks like for someone to accidently kill themselves.

I know the end result of my addiction.

So I don’t follow through with my temptations. No matter how much my mind tells me that I need to.

Instead I wait with anticipation for the next I cut or burn my skin by accident. I await that moment when I can spend hours in the bathroom due to some illness.

I no longer inflict these wounds on myself.

Instead I wait for someone else to do it for me.

All praise mother Gaia and karma.

May they serve me the pain I need to stay alive.

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Listen and repeat

I want to show you that I love you

Is there a way in which I can do this?

One day I got sick. Nothing to bad but bad enough to were I couldn’t get out of bed without experiencing some pain. Being a single parent, an illness like this can be hard to deal with.

My child understood I was sick but not why every time I moved I suddenly wanted to cry or why I sat on the couch most of the day.

She always plays even when she is sick and wanted me to do the same. So I had to work through my pain and be there for her. Even when I just wanted to lay down and sleep. I still made all of her meals, watched tv, and played games with her.

I wanted to give up and sleep so bad though. At one point I actually did fall asleep. My daughter stayed by my side the whole time playing on my phone.

I felt like such a monster when I woke up. How could I fall asleep while my child was awake???

But what could I do?

I had no one who could watch her. The last time I went to the hospital over an illness they called CPS cause I didn’t have anyone to watch her while I went to the emergency room and was potentially admitted. So that was out of the question.

Basically I was forced to parent through my illness (which was food poisoning by the way my. My daughter didn’t get it cause she doesn’t eat meat and I was experimenting)

I think most parents, even many single parents, do not think about stuff like this.

How they will go about things sick and without help.

I once knew of a family where both mother and child were wheelchair bound. Do people understand how difficult that is?

Not many.

We take things for granted all the while judging others for not being just like us.

Sitting in the battle field

Grabbed the man I tried to kill

Looked in the eye and questioned why

Why must we go through life

With blinders in our eyes

Looking forward in days on end

Thinking naught of those who stand

Beside us as we crawl on by

Judge them harshly for choices unknown

As though we do have to make our own

Standing on the battle field

Clutching the hand of the man I tried to kill

Asking God for the reason why

Taking this life was seen as right

What made him beneath me

What made it so we can’t see

Those who stand Beside as

As we crawl through people we can’t see

Bloody hands are grasping me

Eyes clenched but begging me

What gives us the right to what life

Is worth less then another’s

We go through life breathing

Deceiving those who stand close by

Ignoring them with all out might

But judging them if they come within sight

Walking across the battle field

I can no longer feel a thing

Not My Problem

Do not judge me

I gave up 

I become what they wanted

A body covered in cuts.

We are told that suicide is wrong. That is it the failures way out. I once read a story where of someone attempted suicide they where shipped to an island with other people who failed. There there were no rules and they could either try again or live how they pleased. 

Their records were deleted and their families told they died. I am not sure how the goverment in this book got away with not having to show the body, but they did. 

So on this small island some people did decide to take their lives while other vowed to keep going. 

It was a strange story. As you may assume all hell broke lose until rules were in place. Rape, murder, theft, just your basic chaos happened till they devised their own goverment of sorts. 

Not going to lie, I didn’t get that far into this series. Once I was assured people would try to find some meaning to life I stopped. 

Interesting that this is the part I stopped at. I guess I could have read on once the more darker stuff had passed….but I didn’t.  

I have read two variations to this story. One was a manga and they other a adult novel. Both times I stopped reading once life reached some sort of order. 

I don’t delude myself into thinking it would be perfect. Instead I choose to never give it a chance. I didn’t try to see if it would get better because what was right in front of me only seemed to be getting worse. 

In these books order was found but I just knew that it would change quickly. I knew that someone would grow bored of that life and try to start problems again. What else can happen when you put a bunch of emotional people in the same room. Even if everyone is getting along there will always be that one person who craves chaos. Who has this hidden bloodlust that they can’t get rid off. 
So I stop.

I stop reading and instead give up on the series. I see the dark past and have an understanding of the future. I expect change but it is not the change I believe can help me. 

People might think I am strange for that. They might tell me that I need to stick around and let the story finish. That giving up before I can truly reach the ending it not giving the author credit. But I, as the reader, hold all the power. 

In a story filled with violence, I can choose when it will end. 
So when people look to suicide I do not see what they see. They find a failure, a victem, I see a person who took their life into their own hands. Yes they have left so much behind but they are finally free…at least…that is what they think. 
Now despite this understanding I do not believe that peoppe should harm themselves. I do believe that people should preserve. Giving up on a silly book is easy, but giving in to life is a whole other story. 

We readers hold the power. Our story may be filled with pain. We may not hold all the answers on how it could change. We may not be alone in our suffering. We could be sitting on an island surrounded by people who hate just like us. Emotional husk, beings left to rot. We may have tried to end our lives in the past and have it being held against us but we still hold the power. 

Change may not happen fast enough. Somewhere along the lines there will be thay one person trying to fuck it all up. But we, dear reader, will try our hardest to go on. Not just for ourselves but for those around us who also need a reason to go on. 

Do not ever think you are alone. Do not ever think that you are not worth it. We may not have the lives of writers but as readers we are still so very strong. So very very important. Because without us there is no them. Without us they world would be an even more crueler place.
I understand death. 

I understand wanting to shut the book and call it a day. 

I understand giving up.

I understand it all. 

Without those who suffer this world would not understand.
But fuck me !it isn’t fair! It isn’t fair that people must feel pain so the rest of the world can learn something called empathy and understanding. 
I once read a story where people were forced to live on an island after they tried to kill themselves. Their loved ones were told theu succeeded. Some were probably forgotten whole other remembered often. On this island people died, people were raped, people suffered. Forced to live a life they didn’t want just so they could teach others a lesson. 

It isn’t fair at all. 

I stopped reading that book once things started going good. I didn’t want to see people come along and try to break what was once broken. I didn’t want to see as they healed from their wounds and try again. I didn’t want to see them be happy, for others to try stop them. 

Instead I focused in them surviving. 

Cause in the end…no matter what they decided..they did all they could to make their life theres. 
How unfair is that? 

Pancakes

 
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As a child nothing mattered

But the warmth of my mother’s hold

As I grew I begin to go

Abandoned by the mother I did not truly know

I still loved her

I still do

Still love the mother I never knew

The one who held me

Who kept me warm

Who fault the demons

When I could fight no more

Who told me stories to get me through the storms

Whose ghost stores rivaled the best story-teller

I love this mother

The one from the past

The mother without a care

The one who made me pancakes filled with wishes

The mother who made dreams come true

When dreaming was a luxury

The mother I did not know

The mother, who , deep inside

Didn’t even know her own soul