I've Got It Under Control

six

Jules

My stomach was rumbling terribly, I'd realise that I'd refused every meal, and thrown the feeding tube up every time. I was proud of myself for resisting the urge to eat but I was terrified of the consequences. The comforting doctor walked in, clipboard and files in hand. He pulled a chair that sat in the corner of the room, unoccupied because my family never showed up. I was laying on my side but didn't dare look up at him or catch his eye. "I realised I didn't get the chance to introduce myself, I'm Doctor Murphy, but you can call me whatever you want." I was still, a way of telling him I really didn't care nor did I want to engage in a conversation with him. They are always the same, you need to eat, you are dying, blah, blah, blah. Don't they think I already know?

He started to talk to me about what triggered me to do this. I was confused as to why he wanted to know, no one was ever interested in why I've done this to myself. I guess the real reason is that I didn't want to be here, I wasn't happy with myself and I lost control. Waves of anxiety would hit me until it got unbearable, to the point where I wouldn't leave my bed, in fear. I dragged myself into a state of depression, and no it wasn't because of social media, mum, but it's a key factor. People seemed to have these amazing lives that I couldn't have, and because I didn't have it, I punished myself. The consuming feeling of anxiety and depression felt as though I was drowning while someone held me under the water.

Depression is not just something in your mind but also all over your body, as much as it fills your head it also swirls around your stomach. Having anxiety and depression is like being scared but exhausted at the same time. Sort of a fear of letting people down and being a failure, but absolutely no urge to fix anything or carry on. I want to be left alone but I don't want to be lonely. I go days feeling paralysingly numb. So this is my picture to you, of what I feel day in, day out and that is why I starve myself. I can't control the depressive thoughts or the never-ending anxiety, but what I can control is my weight and not only that but what food passes through my lips.

But Doctor Murphy will never know that. "Piss off, why are you so nosy?" I abruptly spoke out. A sort of smirk was painted on his face, he let out a soft laugh.

"I completely understand that you don't want to talk to me, but I do hope you will listen to me, is that okay?" He said with a soft tone. I dug my face into the pillow, I don't want to hear what he has to say, I'm scared, I'll finally admit it now. I've been in denial for far too long, I wasn't mentally prepared to face the truth, I just wanted to close my eyes and pretend like none of this was happening. I want to be a child again, I want to be carefree and happy. I want my happiness back. I need my happiness back.

So no Doctor Murphy I won't listen to you. I wish you knew how badly I'm struggling. I'm fighting with all my strength to stay alive. I'm not even doing this for myself anymore. Funny that isn't it, I generally don't want to be here but I'm being forced to. I don't fucking want to be here, what's complicated about that? Just let me die. I'm okay with it. I'm ready. I know that now.

No matter how many times that you tell me that you know what I'm going through, that you know how hard it is, you know that I will be okay and that I'll get better. Only you don't know and you most likely never will, there is no point in talking to me telling me all of these positive affirmations when I couldn't give less of a shit, you are wasting your time, you all are, I'm not worthy of help anyway. Go and help someone who wants to live Doctor Murphy, how about that.

I could feel the tightness in my chest fighting its way onto my body. Every single breath caused spikes of pain to erupt through me. Memories began to flood back to the endless amounts of anxiety due to having to consume food or waking up from a fainting spell. I just wish for one second that I could be normal and a carefree teenager. A girl can dream. At one point it just becomes too much, there is a certain amount that I can take, and believe me I'm so close to the limit. I just want all of this to end. I can't take this anymore. You really don't know pain until you are staring at yourself in the mirror, with tears streaking down your face, just begging yourself to hold on for a little longer. That is pain. Pain no teenager should feel. No one should have to endure this day in day out. Am I broken? I mean isn't everyone broken? Just some people have scrapes, scratches, while others have cracks and chunks missing and then some are so cracked their original shape is no longer there. Broken. Everyone will break at one point, no one is unbreakable.

Say goodbye to Ilea for me. Tell her that with all of my dying heart that I am sorry. I have let her down, I broke our promise. But I hope she understands, she too is feeling like this, and I have just been fighting for too long, I physically can't do it anymore Ilea. It hurts that I feel the need to do this, I hope you can forgive me. Even if I do survive, I won't be the same Jules you know and love. I won't be hurt nor surprised if you want anything to do with me because I sure don't want anything to do with myself.