The Grip of Eating Disorders

Binge Eating Disorder

I really tried. I really tried not to give in, but my depression was worse than ever.

My brain attacked me - "Ugly" "Fat" "Waste of space" "You're hated" "Go die"

Venomous words echoed in my head with the sound of my own voice.

I hadn't even made it 48 hours without binging, it was the only thing that brought me peace.

Not a razor to my skin, not bitter tasting alcohol that made me forget my name, not little pills or plants that made people feel like they were gods.

Not even the short release of sleep, if I could get any at all, was enough.

Food was the only satisfaction, that's how it's always been.

When daddy came home a little too drunk and started arguments and broke things, food was there.

When mommy ignored me and spent most of her time at work, food was there.

When the kids at school would push me around and call me names that still lingered in my mind today, food was there.

Food was what i lived for, and I hated that fact.

I sat in my bed eating a chocolate cake all by myself.

It had only been 15 minutes, and half of it was gone.

Each bite and swallow was not just cake, but were my troubles.

Every bad thought, every insecurity, every uncertainty would be suppressed in the form of sugary goodness.

Binging always took away the pain, at least for a little while.

It didn't stop at the cake. It went from that to lasagna, to chips, to ice cream, to a midnight mcdonald's run.

Hours and money spent on this worthless addiction, and when it was all over, all the bad feelings came back

And those feelings didn't come alone, they came with new feelings. The strongest among those newcomers being regret.

I sat in silence and stared up at my roof, nothing I could do about it. I couldn't cry, I was done with that. I didn't have the strength to end it all.

I just accepted my life was shit and it was always gonna be shit.

I laid my head on the pillow and slowly let sleep consume me, hoping I wouldn't wake up.