16 May 2015

Self Hatred

Here’s the gut wrenching truth: I hate myself more than I ever thought possible because I incessantly follow my fleshly desires and thoughts in my head, which only lead me astray. Just like Brene Brown says, “Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change”. No, because of all of the horrible things I’ve done and continue to do, I do not think I am capable of change or forgiveness and therefore feel a compelling need to punish myself at every chance. One thing I’m most ashamed of and currently am waiting for terrible things to happen for is leaving the hospital against medical advice. On Monday I had a doctor appointment, which I thought would go good: I’d stopped purging as much, kept drinking a lot and ate—not much, but at least I didn’t purge. Well, after hearing that my labs were off and my doctor wanted to hospitalize me, my world came crashing down. I couldn’t say no because my mom was with me and wouldn’t allow it, so I was escorted up to 6200—my home and most hated place of all time.  I went through the same routine of admission and all control was stripped of my being. Now I’d be forced to stay in bed and eat every single crumb on the dreaded tray that came six times a day, have bags of IV fluid pumped into my veins and do what every anorexic fears most (and feels like a counterfeit when it happens)—gain weight. Honestly, I didn’t want their help—didn’t want to gain weight because I wanted to do it my way. So, I did as I’d done every other time and did everything to eat as little as possible and therefore gain the least amount of weight; I hid food everywhere I could, dumped drinks down the drain and flushed food down the toilet—desperate to get rid of it in any way possible. After 4 days of medical stabilization, the doctor told me once again that she wasn’t comfortable sending me home and wanted to keep me a few more days, and I came to my end. I thought, “I can’t do this anymore; they’re just trying to make me fat and send me away so I get even fatter”. I also thought it was unfair to keep me longer than absolutely necessary, since I was technically already medically stable. So, I did the most horrible and shameful thing a person could do: I signed the papers to leave the hospital against medical advice, full aware of all the risks, and walked out of the hospital. Now I sit here, having never hated myself more. I can’t get myself to eat or even keep it down because I must punish myself at any possible time because I am too far gone—there’s no more hope for me. I’m sorry this is so dark and depressing, but this has been my life for the past few months: wishing I could just die, for this battle is too much for me to bear and I can’t do anything right. “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak (Mark 14:38)."

“I wanted to kill the me underneath. That fact haunted my days and nights. When you realize you hate yourself so much, when you realize that you cannot stand who you are, and this deep spite has been the motivation behind your behavior for many years, your brain can’t quite deal with it. It will try very hard to avoid that realization; it will try, in a last-ditch effort to keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the rest of you. This is, I believe, different from the suicidal wish of those who are in so much pain that death feels like relief, different from the suicide I would later attempt, trying to escape that pain. This is a wish to murder yourself; the connotation of kill is too mild. This is a belief that you deserve slow torture, violent death (Marya Hornbacher).”
“I want to go to sleep and not wake up, but I don't want to die. I want to eat like a normal person eats, but I need to see my bones or I will hate myself even more and I might cut my heart out or take every pill that was ever made” (Laurie Halse Anderson).
“I am forever engaged in a silent battle in my head over whether or not to lift the fork to my mouth, and when I talk myself into doing so, I taste only shame. I have an eating disorder (Jena Morrow).”
“The only number that would ever be enough is 0. Zero pounds, zero life, size zero, double-zero, zero point. Zero in tennis is love. I finally get it (Laurie Halse Anderson).”
“Soon I'll be thinner than all of you, she swore to herself. And then I'll be the winner. The thinner is the winner (Steven Levenkron).”
“She began to be reassured by these pains, tangible symbols of her success in becoming thinner than anyone else. Her only identity was being "the skinniest." She had to feel it (Steven Levenkron)”. 
This is my life until I learn to forgive myself and accept God's unending grace and allow Him to lead me to this: 
happy, fulfilled, and sparkling for God.