Skip to main content

Love. Sick.

And finally, today, I cried; soaked the tissues and pillowcase like I had been longing to do for weeks. The most I had been able to manage recently had been dry crying with a scrunched up face and aching heart. Such relief now to be able to physically release emotions other than vomit.

What words do I use to write about the last few weeks? Crippling, torturous anxiety, studying for finance exams, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting, seeing Gareth, fucking Gareth, hating Gareth, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting. Overcome by the fear and confusion and heartache. Studying for finance exams, but really just exercising and bingeing and vomiting.

By Banksy - a perfect representation of how I felt

The exams are done now and I have been free from those chains for a week - definitely alleviating a great deal of the pressure from my mental crumbling. I was close to slipping back under into the darkness. The darkness of having complete loss of control, complete loss of everything to the sickness in my brain.
days when it's a struggle
and the reoccurring thought is 'what's the point? why carry on?'
feeling helpless, recurringly helpless, empty, lonely, lost

Staying late to study after work or going in the office at weekends led to taking my illness to the office, emptying my stomach metres from the desks of my colleagues. On study days off from work, for the fourth time that day I stood, overcome, staring at the piles of protein bar wrappers and bread crumbs in dismayed horror. The wreckage, like the remains of my brains, splattered across the kitchen. I'm not going to lie, I was so frightened. I couldn't believe or understand how I had spiralled so quickly and so devastatingly. I thought I might die.
I haven't thought that in a very, very long time.

Somehow I am at a new low weight, incredible when you think of the amounts that I was bingeing on, even if I was constantly throwing up and exercising. I can't lie that's it's wonderful and liberating to walk around in tiny denim hot pants and not feel sick with embarrassment.


Since I last posted, Gareth and I have gotten together three more times: the week after that first time on another night out with work colleagues, and then twice this week since my exam has been over.
There's such a lot to fill you in on with Gareth, but I find myself with so very little to say. I kept trying to tell him that I didn't want to do it, calling him out for being a liar, for using me... and then just letting myself be used by him. Because I kept fucking wanting it, like the fucked up, lonely, desperate child I am. I feel like I should record the hours of talks, the anger I spat at him, the ignorance and confusion he feigned... but it seems so pointless, recording shitty conversations, words of no power.

Anyway, I think it is over now - although he is still desperate for us to remain friends. I stayed at his last night after some of us went to his place to watch the England football match, but I slept in another room despite us having his flat to ourselves. I think it had finally sunk in for him how much it was hurting me, and how serious I was about wanting to stop my feelings for him. In an ideal world I'd cut him out of my life and never see him again - but of course because he is at work that will never be 100% possible, and he is so adamant that he wants our friendship to continue just as it has before.
I really wanted to believe him, I really wanted to believe it could work out. But of course it can't. It would have burnt out anyway. He knows everything now, my history, my fragility, I told him it all hoping it might make him understand - or care.
It's like something finally clicked today, watching something on TV - a death, loss, hurt and sadness - which triggered the tears. The trigger is all I needed to remember what matters to me: to love and to be loved.
Gareth - shit, he's so cold, his heart is so cold. He's never laid a hand on me to give affection, he's only ever laid a hand to feel pleasure. He's a child who can't ever give me what I need: love and stability and strength.
It made sense: he thought I was a feisty, tough alpha-female, capable of eating men for breakfast - because that's how I talk and act. So I set him straight about who I am: "Through my fear and fragility I create the opposite image of not wanting the only thing I've ever wanted. It's so sad and ironic. It's sad that the tough girl act that's supposed to protect me from hurt, really doesn't protect me at all." It just makes people like him think that I don't need love and care.

I don't want to let another cold bastard near me again - the act just keeps attracting them. I have to drop the fake pretence and make it clear who I really am.


  1. My comment didn't post yesterday!

    I wanted to say that your last two lines as the bravest thing I've ever seen you write. Now go out and fucking do it. I know you can.

  2. I feel like crying after reading this post. I don't know you and have never posted on a blog before but I felt an overwhelming need to read out and say something. I know what it's like to feel like a ship sailing in a rocky fucking sea waiting for someone stable to anchor yourself to. I have been in the "wrong" relationship for 4 years (I am no longer physically attracted to him) but in many ways it has prevented me from drifting from one bad choice to another. I hope you find happiness and self love soon. I haven't but I hope it comes with age. You sound like an intelligent girl who is adept at seeming like you have your shit together, I think that is our downfall.

  3. Hi there Ophelia, I've never commented before, but I've been reading your blog since the beginning and acutely missed it for the last year or so. I've been in similar situations to yours in recent years and it's just not worth the drama. You're a fantastic and strong individual, even if you don't feel that way in your deepest thoughts. Finding kindness for yourself is probably the only way to enter into a healthy relationship with someone else and stick with them, I know how hard it is to accept oneself though. I struggle and fail every day. Actively engaging in your ED while you're in such a headspace probably feels like the only constant, I know it feels that way for me. Just know that you're a worthwhile individual, even if it's hard to grasp. You wouldn't pursue your visions of achievement if you didn't value yourself, so find someone who complements you and supports you in the right ways. You deserve no less than someone on a similar level to you, who can understand and care for you without taking away from who you are. Excuse my rambling, but I hate to see how you've struggled and struggled and finally succeeded in your life and you deserve happiness. I'm not quite where I want to be yet, but I hope to make it there one day.


Post a Comment

Don't be anonymous, leave a name at least so I can identify you back :)

Popular posts from this blog

"Here I am, sane and dry"

"I stayed there, staring at myself in the glass. What do I want to cry about?.... On the contrary, it's when l am quite sane like this, when I have had a couple of extra drinks and am quite sane, that I realize how lucky I am.
Saved, rescued, fished-up, half drowned, out of the deep, dark river, dry clothes, hair shampooed and set. Nobody would know I had ever been in it. Except, of course, that there always remains something. Yes, there always remains something....Never mind, here I am, sane and dry, with my place to hide in. What more do I want?....I'm a bit of an automaton, but sane, surely - dry, cold and sane. Now I have forgotten about dark streets, dark rivers, the pain, the struggle and the drowning...."
Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight


We both knew what we wanted - of that there is absolutely no doubt.
We didn't have to say anything, from the start of the week, right up until the point where I was naked in his bed; we both knew.
About two weeks ago Gareth and a few of our colleagues had arranged to have a night out this Friday. We had a pretty tight knit group of 6 who often lunched together at work, but this was one of the few times we were actually going out together. From Monday Gareth was pestering me like he had before:  "Are you coming out on Friday, are we going out out, are we gonna have a big one..."  "Yes", I had replied, "of course." And I booked my waxing appointment and blowdry for Friday lunch, my mind made up about what I wanted.  I had been thinking what would I regret more; sleeping with him or not sleeping with him. I decided on the latter. I'd not been with anyone since Joe left in January and more than that, thoughts of Gareth were continually running through…