Inside the Head of a Mental Disorder Patient

Words abandon me every time you come up. When I’m asked about you, I nod and say you’re getting better, you’re good, you’re healing.

I get defensive when someone accuses me of still talking to you, and I shut the conversation down. People try to support. People reach out when they notice the distress I’m living in, but you hold me back and whisper abominable things in my ear.

You have taught me to throw up my emotions instead of communicating them. You took away countless hours wasted over obsessions, over the toilet seat, and dwelling on my own thoughts.

Hours wasted lying down because I would have fainted otherwise — hours of precious opportunities and time with the people I love.

The problem is, I run to you when I’m running from myself.

You never taught me how to embrace who I am despite the lies you twisted to convince me you’re indispensable to me. I cannot exist comfortably in my skin now, can I? So, where are your empty promises, the ones that ensure growth and satisfaction?

You were where all my money went to, right down the drain, and with no return. You are the reason I have numerous health complications. I gave myself an allergic reaction followed by a concussion and a 10-minute blackout in a bathroom tub with no one to find me. I broke off a tooth too.

Every night, lying in bed, insomnia holds my hand and smiles. I just wish she wasn’t so dark. Every time I breathe, I feel my heart pulsing against my chest, reminding me of how vulnerable I am. Heart racing at an incredible rate, feeling like I might pass out any moment. Any minute now. And I pray to God my parents never find me in that state; unconscious in bed at the age of 20.

I know what blood and teeth taste like. What glass feels like when swallowed. I know how difficult it is to throw up after giving yourself an allergic reaction; your throat is closed shut.

I can tell you, you get one hell of a high after it all happens, and at first, the sensation of emptiness feels so relieving, but then gloom and darkness fill you. Grey swims in your blood. White sparks fly right in front of your eyes. And you can taste brown, and red, and dark blue in your mouth.

My hands’ quiver is frightful; persistent for days after your visit. Scars on my knuckles have been a constant reminder of your never-ending existence and your countless victories in the past few years. I can’t breathe through my nose when I’m sleeping, and my teeth feel too brittle; even air makes them ache. You taught me how to lie to hide the shame I feel.

Lie. Hide. Sneak around.

It’s not ever a harmful lie, at least not to anyone else, but you scared me. The lies I told to protect you are countless, and they left me feeling helpless.

Worthless. Dizzy. Guilty. Dirty.

Ah. And I can never paint my nails, can I? I can never have gentle hands. I can never keep down sugar, eat greasy foods, enjoy a burger, have some fries or a pizza.

Ah! Cheese? Oh, the forbidden cheesiness.

Honestly, at one point, everything stopped tasting good. My tongue felt numb from the acid, and you were there to let my emotions out. It wasn’t always about the food. But you gave me so many promises you couldn’t keep. So many you broke.

You promised me life and control. You promised me happiness and acceptance. You promised me love and friendships. But you took away the joy. You took away the food. You took away the moments and memories. You took away so many potential relationships with people I care about. You robbed me of my passions.

My ability to create. To share. To feel.

Now I cannot blame you for it all, because I am the one who befriended you in the first place. However, now I am pleading you yo leave. Give me peace and quiet instead of storms and chaos.

Make me cry for my own sake. Give me tears instead of vomit. Give me memories instead of torture. Give me sadness instead of pain.

Eating disorders have been normalized at some point. Disordered eating became the new trend in society. Having specific diets that stem out of fear have been welcomed in the community. This should not be the case. It is a mental illness, and it takes a toll on your physical and mental state.

Reach out for help. If you are unsure about whether you need help RIGHT NOW, try a screening test. You can also find eating disorder centers and treatments around you if you live in the USA. You can also access free, online help.

Also, if you ever simply want someone to listen, because it can be difficult finding someone who relates, you are always free to reach out to me. I would love to be there for you.