I think I might actually go through my suicide plan and it scares me. I want to raise chickens. I want to be married and I want to adopt a child. I want to run half-marathons, get a cat, have a job, and to enjoy the holidays.
But I am so tormented by my own thoughts. I am in a prison, trapped by disgust and self-hate. I am 28 years old and have nothing about me that is lovable. On Friday, I spent about 8 hours binging and purging. On Saturday, I ate food from under the bed, and then headed off to an undergraduate dining hall to binge. Who does that? I binged and purged twice today at a university dining hall, ate fast food in the car and I am ready to just die. I can’t tell anyone because I’ve been in this city less than a year and I can’t put that burden on anyone, especially because I didn’t even make any friends. I am ready, it is time. It has been 13 years and I am done. This isn’t some Full House special of “Oh, I’ll just purge up this apple. Oh, it’s bad for me. Oh, great, now I’m cured.”
This is AE Intervention worthy insanity. This is eating under your desk at work, pilling up bags of vomit in the car, wrapping up yourself in an electric blanket to soothe pain from laxatives, using a space heater to purge in the basement insanity.
I have no insurance and “help”sounds like an absolutely great idea, but the truth is that quality matters. I go to a sliding scale counselor and we never even talk about binging and purging. He asks about work, self-esteem and you know, those topics are not even on my radar because I can barely make it a few hours without wanting to binge and purge. I can barely perform basic human functions beyond blinking and breathing. Talking about my childhood is not going to help me with my immediate crisis of a serious addiction.
I am ready to die. But unfortunately, I am lazy. I have to clean up an extra room I keep solely for emergency purging purposes. There are bags of vomit there, paper towels, spilled stains on the floor. I have to clean that up. And then I will be ready.
I am going to do it over the weekend. I am going to do it in a car, parked near the lake/woods. I am going to try the helium exit bag with the detergent gases going on at the same time. I am going to have alcohol to dull my senses a little. I won’t leave a note. I will have everything packed away so that when I pass, everything can just go to family without excessive work for anyone.
Time…sometime in the spring. I can smell it now. I can taste the soft scent of the flowers in the air. I can hear the birds chirp and celebrate spring. It sounds beautiful. I don’t want to miss it forever, but I cannot keep living like this. I am in so much pain.
Bulimia or no bulimia, I am a mess. I feel too intensely. I shrivel up when criticized. I am quiet, and I am not intelligent. I don’t have street or book smarts. I am blank. I am diseased. I am that itch you cannot get rid of.
It is time. It has been time for a while. I am terrified, but I think May will be a good time. I have to clean a lot before then. I don’t want to do this, but this will be the only gift I’ve ever given the world. My death will be the one thing I do right.
4 comments
I don’t think you killing yourself is the only thing you do right. I think it’s just something you feel you need to do to stop the pain. If you do commit suicide I think you should leave a more before you do because most people will blame them self or they will always wonder why you did it.
I didn’t mean to say more i meant note.
I’m assuming by “sliding scale counselor” you mean the counselor that your school supplies? Well in any case although he/she doesn’t ask questions about your bulimia you should bring it up and tell him/her what you’ve been going through. They should be able to help you or point you in the direction of someone that can help. Don’t be ashamed of telling them they are trained to hear this kind of stuff and won’t judge you. Addiction can be a really hard thing to over come but it’s possible with the right help. I had a friend last year that was addicted to coke and was anorexic and bulimic and after being admitted to a rehabilitation center he’s okay now and has stopped all three. It may cost a lot of money but I’ll be worth your life, money comes and goes your life doesn’t. Your worth the effort, the time and what ever monetary cost it might be, you yourself said that you don’t want to die that you have plans things you want to do. It’ll be worth it not just to yourself but also your future spouse and adopted child. Just because your problem is very severe doesn’t mean you can’t be helped, you want help and are motivated to get better and that’s a really good indication to me that you can get better with the right help. I hope this helps some what and isn’t too much of a rant.
Wow…my ex has an eating disorder and has attempted suicide many times.
She’s.. far from where she needs to be, but doing much better. She has a child and someone she will probably marry someday.
I guess my point is, while it might seem impossible, progress can be made. I know, easier said than done.
At any rate, my heart goes out to you.