in which we look back at the crossroads and mourn the point of no return

well, friends, you have followed me on this descent into madness. or rather, disorderedness. you have watched me spout wisdom and advice (or so i thought), you have watched me slip up, you have watched me fast. you have read my posts saying how this is a dangerous game. maybe you have gotten the impression that i was just playing with it, turning it over in my head, starving a little, feasting a little, puking a little, always thinking i was just a bit above it all (you were right). you maybe thought me to be strong. together. resilient. (me too.)

today, or rather, behind you, some time ago, you will see a crossroads in the distance. do you see it, beneath all that dust and fog? bear it in mind. it marks the place at which this ceased to be a game, a flirt, a tease, and became something sinister, something with a mind of its own.

please note that it is currently behind us. i have missed that fateful moment, walked through on autopilot, did not even get the chance to choose. from far back i saw it coming and had big plans for what to do when i got there. no such luck.

today marks the day that i have realized i am truly disordered. again.

i am wearing a dress for the occasion. it is too big. i am pleased about this.

i watched Thin today. it was a brilliant documentary. it made me mad. mad, mad, mad, mad, mad. i am mad that i recognize myself too much in those girls. i am mad that i find them pathetic at the same time. i am mad that i had seven years of health and (relative) happiness before this started again, and that it was a game at first and i knew, i fucking knew where it was going and i let it get there anyway. i should not be surprised i have passed by that crossroads unnoticed. i knew it. i knew it and i fucking let it happen. mostly i am mad that, simply, i need this. without it i would be formless and vague but in the end it will make me formless and vague. it fucking sucks. i am so mad. i do not want to be one of those skinny girls with dark eyes and shaking hands but i will be. i want a life i want happiness i want joy i want a career. i tasted it. i was getting there. i was getting there before this shit started again.

i am wearing a dress for this occasion of revelation but all i can do is prod at my thighs, push at my swollen stomach, wonder how well the dress would fit if i lost ten pounds.

i am so mad. we only get one life and i am fucking it up. here go my 20s, down the toilet. literally.

i am mad because i'm in it and i can't get out and i'm not sure that i'd want to anyway because i no longer have anything left up there. what is left? i will just be a person without an eating disorder. i will have to work hard to find some other meaning for my life. that's what got me in this state to begin with. eating disorders are convenient, aren't they? they provide a reason for existence. they take up all sorts of time. you do not have to think about what you want to be or do or where you are going. happy little dream world. yeah, right.

fuck and FUCK. this is a disordered post for a disordered girl. i am so mad. i am lost. i am buried. i am screaming. i will not cry. i will not cry over this shit.

there is so much more to your life. you can be so much more. you are wasting everything. life, dreams, garbage disposal. do not do this. 

sigh. it is already too late. suddenly the weight of a thousand unused lifetimes coming to rest on my fragile shoulders. i am made of graphite and i break apart with pressure.