"it sits in silence, eats away at me
it feeds like cancer, this guilt could fill a fucking sea
pulling teeth, wolves at my door
now falling and failing is all I know
this disease is getting worse.
i counted my blessings, now i'll count this curse
the only thing i really know: i can't sleep at night
i'm buried and breathing in regret..."
-Bring Me The Horizon, "Chelsea Smile"
i just keep coming closer and closer to breaking down. spilling my guts to drew (pardon the irony). sometimes when i'm around him i just feel those tears waiting behind my eyes to spill out when i finally have the courage to let the word leave my lips: help.
i need help. i need him to know that i've relapsed to the point that it's beyond my control. it didn't take any time at all for me to find myself in just as big of a mess as before. every second of the day, all i can think about is foodfoodfoodfoodfood. meanwhile, voices inside are screaming: fat fucking bitch. lardass. fatfatfatfatfat. everything that passes through my lips winds up in the toilet shortly after. every time i take a shower, more chunks of hair fall down the drain.
i don't know how to tell him that i've been taken over by the same old monster once again. i don't know how to tell him how scared i am whenever my muscles twitch from all the purging, or my vision blurs from the lack of food in my system. but in a month i go to college, and i know for a fact that if i don't start to get a grip on this bullshit now, i'm going to absolutely fly out of control when i'm on my own.
i have to figure out how to tell him. how to ask him for help. how to let myself be vulnerable around him. i know i can trust him, i trust him with my life. but telling him i've relapsed? that's a difficult task.