Dante's inferno opens with Dante running through the woods from three horrible monsters. He runs for so long that he finds himself lost in the dark woods. He's tired, he's alone, and he realizes his doesn't know the diritta via, or right way out. He becomes conscious that he is ruining himself and finds himself falling into what he calls a basso loco, or deep place, where he says the sun is silent (I sol tace). My disordered world is my basso loco where I sol tace. The words found here are my desperate attempt to articulate what feels like my stumble through a place where up is down and food is greed, where death is honor and flesh is weak. It seemed so easy to find my way here but I'm finding it much harder to find the way out.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Chasing the Wind

I feel like my eating disorder makes me endless promises that it has no intention of keeping.  It dangles sparkling, shinning things in front of me and laughs as I chase it further and further down into the rabbit hole.  It whispers in my ear like a lover in the dark, telling me of all the wonderful things that we'll do together.  Perhaps the reason I'm so pissed off is because I'm just starting to realize that my ED has been mocking me all along- making promises of treasures that lie just ahead and laughing as it watches me die in the search.

This anger is new to me.  I'm mostly apathetic as my emotions are most closely related to that of a sociopaths but recently I've been feeling this overpowering, all consuming anger.  It's like something turned the embers inside my belly into scorching flames ready to burn away at any and all things it comes into contact with.  I can deal with sadness (restrict), I can deal with feeling overwhelmed (purge) and I can deal with happy when it seldom comes around, but unfortunately for me my anger manifests itself in angry, raging cuts blanketing my arms-a visual validation of sorts.

 I've recently begun writing on myself to try and quench my thirst to carve at my skin.  There must be something in my flesh, something innately ingrained into me, that I have unadulterated hatred for.  I think it must be the memories.  They are always there, like my ED, to remind me that my body is not mine, it's theres, and it nothing more than a series of entering and exiting.  They say our skin is our most basic barrier, that its purpose is to keep the good in and the bad out.  My skin is defective.

Remy
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1 comment:

  1. SamMay 15, 2011 at 2:11 PM

    You don't deserve to hate yourself. You set the standards for how people treat you. Take care of urself

    Sam

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