Eating Myself To Death

That utter sadness that makes you sick to your stomach, brings unstoppable tears to your eyes, and twists your heart in its unyielding grasp; I feel that every night. I avoid sleep, because I know I won’t want to wake up from it tomorrow. I avoid people, even though I feel so alone. I hate myself so much, it’s palpable.

Sometimes I close my eyes and think about what it would be like if I was dead. Maybe people would be sad at first, but they’d get over it. I dream about my own funeral, about how everyone would claim to be my best friend and be so distraught. Maybe if those people were really there for me in life, they wouldn’t have to make the false claim after my death. I think of the burden that would be taken off my parents’ shoulders if I wasn’t here anymore. I think about how long it would be before people noticed I was gone.

But I’m a coward. I think about death, about killing myself, but I’m too scared. I may make pitiful attempts, but I don’t think I could ever go completely through with it. Maybe that’s why I’m so obsessed with ghosts and the afterlife. Maybe if I knew for sure that things on the other side weren’t so bad, I’d find the courage to do it.

I turn to food instead. If I can’t end the pain, I can replace the hole inside of myself with food instead. I eat and eat and eat until I’m full, until I feel sick. And then I eat some more, because no matter how much I eat, it will never fill that empty space inside of me. It can’t replace the people I’ve lost, it won’t pay our bills, it won’t bring Joey back, or pass my classes when I’m too stupid to do it myself. Food can’t love me the way I want to be loved. Food can’t make me whole again.

So what the **** do I do? Nothing. I sit here and cry and type this out so that maybe, just maybe it’ll help ease some of the pain that I seem to hide so damn well. I’ll probably stay up another few hours, go to bed when it feels like my head is going to explode, sleep way too long, wake up way too late, do nothing productive all day, and go through the cycle all over again. I’d be eating right now if there was anything to ******* eat.

This is my life. If you think I’m ok, you’re wrong.
SiceliaAnneliese SiceliaAnneliese
22-25, F
May 16, 2012