Sunday, 2 September 2012

In bed

I started to cry as I forced another spoonful of cereal into my mouth.

I am too scared to stand on the scales. I am too scared to go to work tomorrow. I am too scared to go to my therapy session.
Oh God, I don't want to do it. I want to believe this is just the depression talking. I don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to... it is so frightening. The way I felt at the end of 2010, I swore I'd never feel it again... In my first post of 2012 I wrote that this would be the year. It's just another year of failure. My career thrown off the rails, my eating disorder back to its worst...Everything...I failed.

I can't start to comprehend how I did this.

How the fucking hell did this happen. I want to say it's not fair. But deep down I can only blame myself. I mean, it has to be me, it has to be me, what else is there, it must be me, evil and tainted and cursed.

I want to stop myself from sinking under, I know that I am a fighter, that I always fight my way back up to the surface, kicking and screaming for air. But, knowing that isn't enough. The here and now is too much, too painful.

God dammit, I just don't want to go to work tomorrow. I cannot bear it. I cannot bear to sit in front of my doctor again and try and tell her how awful things are. I can't.


I want to run away again, like I did last time, but further. I want to run away from the pressure, the memories, the people who remember me, the shops and the money, the men and their eyes, the application forms and failure, the women and their fucking judgement.
I feel so suffocated by my identity - because it is not connected to the heart beating in my chest.

I can't go away, I can't run, because I am tied here by my mother. As she has done for 24 years, she ties me down to my identity. I can't run away and give up because I have to prove THEM wrong, I have to show them how great I did without them and despite them. THEM. Alex, Theo, the girls from school, the pigs from university, the bastards I used to work for, the privileged City Boys I hate but don't even know.

"What did you do over the Bank Holiday weekend Ophelia?"
"Oh nothing really... I just lay in bed for three days." I shrugged my shoulders casually.
They looked at me almost confused and said nothing. My reply had been truthful and matter of fact; to them it was sad and awkward. They had asked the question politely with no expectation of receiving that sort of answer. And only when they looked at me in that way did I realise how sad and inappropriate it had been to say.
I have wasted so much of my life curled up in my bed unable to bear my life and my identity.



"As psychologists we believe that memory is the essence of who you are. We believe that unless you know where you've come from, you cannot place yourself in the present and then you cannot plan things going forward."

9 comments:

  1. God girl I wish I could just hold u really tightly...this is like exactly how I feel...everyday a new day, today I'll succeed! but i always end up falling into the same hole...But ur strong girl and u know it. u can definitely beat it! u did before so I know uve got it in you:) just wondering...is there anything that makes u happy? like some hobby or something like that? maybe u cud spend some more time on doing something u enjoy. ur a beautiful girl and rly deserve to enjoy ur life while ur young instead of struggling under all this pressure and crap and b4 u know it ur life's past...all the best<3

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  2. It's only September, there's still time to make the year turn into the one you wanted! Everyone has bad times, and it's important to remember that those bad times will eventually end. I know you can pull yourself through this and come out ok on the other side.
    Be strong and good luck :)

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  3. Hang in there,

    Sending you hope, faith, courage and a hug x

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  4. I am new to your blog and I didn't know that emotions can be penned down so beautifully.
    I'd just say.. stay strong.
    <3

    http://epitaphsforaheart.blogspot.in/

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  5. Ophelia. Looks like we're rowing the same boat. What works for me is being robotic and just continuing with life as best as I can.

    Like you said, we're only 25. Even if tomorrow is the last day we're both alive, let's make the time we have left worthwhile. Let's make the most of what we have. It's much easier typing this, but I have to remember this as well. Too much has happened to return to what we once were before. Too much.

    In that remaining time, make the best of everything and be happy. It's difficult, challenging, and when it all becomes frustrating, write. Let it all out. Because that frustration is as necessary as it's momentary.

    Keep writing. Keep dreaming. Keep pushing.


    Belle

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  6. Oh, hunny... Depression is an awful thing. I really hope you feel better very soon. You are strong, and i know you can pull through it if you believe in yourself (sometimes much easier said than done). But hang in there; i know you can!

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  7. We've all been there and we've all read this blog long enough to know - you'll pull through. xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

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  8. I know you can get through this tough time. Oh you don't know how much I adore you. Oliver, live put that younger guy fantasy! It's fun, and harmless fun at that. And the flattering type. Darling, when it comes to Their I have to tell you how impressed I am. YOU ARE SO STRONG. To walk away from that, let him. I'm happy, too because he will never treat you the way you should be treated. I want so badly for you to have a passionate, whirlwind (but in the end, lasting) romance with a wonderful, intelligent, handsome man that adores you and accepts every part of you. This is my wish.
    Also a bigger wish: post more! I eat up your posts.
    Have I mentioned you are a fabulous writer!?
    The best.
    Lots of love.

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