Acceptance for a fate I hope won't come
Everyone kept telling me that they were sorry I was feeling so low...But I wasn't really feeling anything. It's such an odd thing feeling nothing because you'll go through the motions of laughter and feeling sorry for another person but it won't stick with you and it won't internally affect you in any way. But then I realized I do feel something. I am out of my mind scared. I'm scared because I am genuinely looking into homeless shelters in Cambridge because I don't want to stay here anymore but I know my mother won't accept me back home with an eating disorder. I can live in a homeless shelter until my friends are ready to live in the apartment we planned out together and I can get a job. Even if it's a barista. I don't want to give up, but I'm feeling like I have to, and THAT is why it's scary. I wrote yesterday/today: "I think it's time to give up. Not because I want to, but because I have to. I have nothing left at this point. I am incurable... can't be helped... a waster of treatment... a pointless cause. I want to get better, but it's just never going to work out. Sometimes it's just not meant to be. I'm tired. It's been 7 long years and here I am at my unhealthiest weight/BMI ever, actually. Same place as I was 7 years ago. I will likely relapse again. The recovery rate is 60% with 100% saying they have eating disorder thoughts and urges. None of it's reassuring. Maybe it's time to throw in the towel. And that's okay." I have made peace with the fact that if I leave here and continue on in this way I will die. Not in any suicidal ideation way, but factually. It's not okay, and it's a horrid way to die. But it's something I have accepted. I hope tomorrow, or within the next few days I can wake up with a new perspective. Because feeling nothing, and feeling scared is a really toxic combination. Overall day rating 5/10.