This is the first time I've stopped myself whilst trying to sleep. I have to write it out.
I close my eyes and my brain Is dancing. I open them to check the room; no curtain is swaying to let in street lights, no lamp switches linger on in my room. The only mechanics still whirring are those of my own. I didn't know a disco ball was inside my head.
The mind is a funny thing. I feel like everything around me is silent yet the music is so loud inside my head. I'm reaching the guilt stage even though there is nothing wrong. You could say, and so I should be saying that I have nothing to worry about. Work is going well, I have friends and family around me. What am I beating myself up for?
Eating habits come from feeling precisely like this. A fool. An idiot. Why does my brain work in this way? What is so chemically out of balance that I feel dizzy and sick. What is so wrong with me that I try to treat food with pleasure, to feel happy and take enjoyment from it? A golfball stomach, followed by extreme guilt for even putting the effort in. To purge. To restrict. To just try and enjoy. Why did I even bother. You don't deserve such treats. Your worthless. It's as if you want to turn yourself inside out. To maintain a balance would be nice. It would be a wonderful thing. I'd hope for a sponge which didn't swell.
I hear Dr Nandy say 'just relaxxx', then I'd go home and devour a pizza because I'd allow it. A friend once said to me 'I guess we're all just trying to regain some control in our life'. Spot on.
The irony. Most people would associate me with food. Creation is a passion yet it's sucking the life out of me too. Up down up down up down. Breathe, tiny pipes.
I hear the rain outside spreading like a comfort blanket. My window slightly open, I must try to sleep and get through this downpour.
No comments:
Post a Comment