Catching no Breaks

⚠️TRIGGER AND CONTENT WARNINGS⚠️
This rant will contains mentions and descriptions of anorexia, bulimic tendencies, self hatred, self harm, sexual assault, emotional abuse, graphic imagery, pedophilia, and drugs. —————————————————————
It’s been three weeks since I left my ninth mental hospital. I wish I could say that I felt better, and that I had some epiphany about the value of life, but I’d be bullshitting you. Honestly, things have just gotten worse. For one, I’ve relapsed on my eating disorder, right when I thought I was getting better. I miss the feeling of exhilaration while watching the numbers slowly drop. The ecstasy of being able to easily count my ribs. A few days ago, I read a newspaper stating that an old friend of mine had recently been imprisoned for assaulting and raping a young girl. Said friend had touched me without permission in the past, but had manipulated me into believing that it was just a joke, and I was being too serious. Reading this article made me want to throw up, and not in a bulimic way. He had been abusing Xanax. My dead best friend’s deathiversary recently passed. It’s been six months since they committed suicide. They were only fourteen. I’m so behind in school, I cry myself to sleep at night, because I’m terrified that I won’t make up all the work I’ve missed in the hospital. My health has only gotten worse thanks to my family mocking my struggles and refusing to give me treatment. I want to rip my skin off. I’m so tempted to break my clean streaks and tear my arms to shreds. I wish the pills had worked. ———————————————————————

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Max Other April 16, 2021 at 12:52 pm 0 0