Holy god, this girl can write.
For the last four or five weeks I forced myself to become mentally okay because I thought it was about time. I pushed myself to apply to university because I knew nothing else would force me to stay sane but I don't want to do it anymore.
Since I was a child I was always "the weird one". It started out innocent -- I was 'the emo' or 'the rock chick' and so many people looked up to me because I was original, I was myself, I was the person they wanted to be but the desire to conform to the social norm prevented them from embracing the part of them that was their *self*.
When I hit 17/18 I started entering the real world and I wasn't the weird one anymore. I realised just how normal I was. I needed to feel special. I started taking pride in my mental illness, which, at the time was anorexia (or 'EDNOS' excluding the severe weight loss and lack of periods --I was at a "normal" weight and still got my periods, but everything else in me screamed anorexic). Around a year later I was diagnosed with depression. Before then I suffered bullimia, and during/after it was binge eating disorder. A few months later the borderline [personality disorder] in me REALLY became apparent when I started working as a call girl because the chronic emptiness and loneliness and emotional abyss came rushing back through my veins like it did years prior to meeting my boyfriend. (Regarding boyfriend, I met him when we were 17, we got together less than a year later, he left me 6 weeks after, around this time I forced myself to finally get the diagnosis for depression which I suspected myself of having since I was about 13 years old. Another 6-8 weeks later I started working as a call girl.)
I've been suffering from suicidal thoughts since the mere age of 9. I'm not likely to commit suicide now because I've been forcing myself to stay alive for my family, but from the ages of 9 to 15ish, I did attempt suicide a few times.
I don't have a good enough reason to feel like this. I didn't have a screwed up childhood, my family are the best thing to ever happen to me. I was never sexually, physically, emotionally or psychologically abused. The only thing I can assume caused this shit is genes, but I can't confirm this. The only trauma I faced in life was being bullied for my weight from the age of 6 to 16. I developed anorexia when I was 16. If losing my boyfriend counts as trauma (apparently the way I behaved in the following months show signs of PTSD) then that too but I don't know.
It's almost like I define myself through my mental illnesses. It's almost like if I don't suffer a mental illness then I'm not worth anything. I don't know why I feel like this. I'm sitting in my room and just looking around and good lord, I've started crying at the omnipresent thought of "I have everything, my life is perfect, why do I put myself through this?"
I think I'm having an anorexia relapse. I just realised it's been over two years since my last one. yay me? I can't tell if I'm responsible for this relapse because I want it to happen, or is it somehow my mind's fault and not mine?
For the last 5 weeks I've felt so okay, like I was on the verge of becoming "normal". I don't want to be normal. I miss the nights where I used to cry myself to sleep. I miss feeling empty inside. I miss feeling dependent on other people. At the same time I know it's going to drive me crazy because all I've ever strived for was an easy life but if easy means being normal then normals means being psychologically healthy and that means I won't be special.
I've always been the sort of "damsel in distress" in one way or another, and there's never been anyone to save me so I've always learnt to cope with everything on my own, but I don't want to anymore. When I was with my boyfriend I finally felt like I could shift the world off my shoulders on to him for a little while but I was afraid of letting him into my little world. It took me so long to break all the walls I built inside my head for him because he kept pushing me and pushing me to open up and when I was finally ready to do so, he left me. Since I was a kid I always thought I knew what pain felt like but it was never as raw as it was then. When I lost him, I lost myself. The binge eating started, the hypersexuality started, I started working as a whore to fill the hole he left. I convinced myself that I was okay but I was never okay. Not until recent weeks, since in forced myself into uni.
That desperation of hiding in a cave until death do us - the world and I - part is back. I'm not feeling pain like I used to feel, but I want to feel that pain. Without pain, I'm nothing. If I'm not ruining myself then I feel like nothing. I don't know why. I wish I could find an explanation for this. Hell, never mind that, I wish I still believed in God so that I didn't need an explanation as I believed this pain was my gateway to heaven. Life was easier when I was a believer. People say all sorts of things about religion, and about Islam in particular, but take it from me, it's the best damn thing for anyone feeling mind-imploding pain. Part of what kept my faith burning was the amount of pain and grief and despair I've been feeling throughout my life. If I told you I'm a call girl now, would you believe me if I told you I used to be a hijabi? Even though I don't believe in Him anymore, I can't help but have this burning desire to reignite my faith. It meant everything to me until I lost it because in times like now, times when I just felt so alone, I would speak to Him like He was my bestfriend in the entire world and the loneliness would vanish for a little while. I can't do that anymore.
It's funny how the most unlikely things could work as triggers for all this. My trigger was a little boy in a documentary. He suffered a mental disorder and throughout the entire thing I had flashbacks of my life, when shit hit my psychological fan. I saw this boy and I saw how degrading his condition is and all I felt was pure jealousy. The only things going through my mind were 'remember when my condition was almost as bad as his?" and "why can't my current condition be as bad as his?" I wish I knew why I felt this way. The only thing I can think to put at fault is my need to feel special and worth something, but that's not enough.
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