Bulimia is an escape, one that helps you not hurt by eating up your emotions, then excreting them. It’s like a ritual. Eat the bad emotions, the ones that hurt you then throw them up. Symbolic even. When you retire your bulimia, or eating disorder, you have to face the facts. You have to look at your life and ask “was I abused mentally, emotionally, physically?” And then it hurts. The truth hurts. But you can’t tell the truth. And if you do someone will tell, or even if you post it privately, someone will find it and then use it against you and then hurt again. Time does not heal all, it just makes it easier to live with. Retiring my bulimia was the hardest thing I ever did so far. Maybe next one will be quitting smoking. They say as a joke that smoking a slow death, but I’m not in a hurry to die. I’m living again. Just now with eyes open. Sometimes it’s scary, oblique, twisted, uncompromising, shallow, deep, frightening, confusing, challenging, worthwhile, painful, careless, undisturbed, disturbed, miscommunication, sharp, edged, coloured, grey or black and white (but rarely). Life is what it is. Don’t lie to me. My motto for the month. But if you tell the truth do it in the right way. Because words and life have a right way and wrong way. I retired. I want the right way. The right way is easier and it’s freedom.
As I cannot lie to you. Great show “Lie To Me”. Latest one the best. Lead character says he can’t see things clearly, and most of all those he loves the most. Something like that. My problem is I don’t see things clearly, but see too much from those I love the most. See and feel their pain, their anger, their mistrust, the truth behind their eyes. It’s been my demise and my reason for not wanting to be around those I love, or care for the most. I seem to bring out the words and worst in them and they in me. Truth hurts. I’ve learned to live with it, but some others don’t know how. They accuse you of what they have done, their own faults. It’s in their eyes, their writing, their lifestyle. Most people don’t see it or maybe more so hear it. Or even care enough. Those who do care enough take the brunt of those who hold onto something they can’t let go of. Life is ever changing, ever becoming, ever complicated in the most simplest way. Life is what it is. You can embrace it, run away from it, or end it. Ending doesn’t mean suicide, it means drowning inside yourself. It means avoiding, paranoia, hiding, anger, grudges, denying life. That is a life of suicide for the living.
Lie to me and tell me this isn’t true. Tell me this isn’t the truth that hurts the most. Lie to me. I dare you.
Still clean but sometimes don’t know how. Friends can be so rude. We all make mistakes, many of us unintentionally, but friends judge and accuse of it being intentional. Then it hurts to the core. I can’t say more than that. But that I don’t go to my bulimia to eat and throw them up is a miracle. Thank you God!! Maybe time had spoken volumes to me and healed me. And too God!! And before I go let me leave you with these quotes:
“An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind.”
“A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked.”
“Friends are God’s way of apologizing to us for our families.”
“True friends stab you in the front.” (and then in the back and other places too, like the heart)
“Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”