We all have voices within ourselves. We have our consciousness and what is good VS. what we believe is good. As kids, we would always have moments where we'd think we were doing the right thing. For example, have you ever had a moment when you would take or borrow something because you thought you needed it but then you were scolded for doing so? Well when your mental stability gets to a certain point, that is all your mind becomes. You tell yourself you want or need something when in reality it isn't good for you but you don't want to accept that fact.
The voice I thought that loved me and that I loved back, only wanted the worst for me. It's the voice that isn't a part of me yet it's still always right there, it's become my own. It's the voice that took over and told me what I am and am not deserving of. Jollity, friends, and food are things I couldn't have whereas behavioral dysregulation and gum are something I could always take for granted. The thoughts and voices are things that could only be understood by likeminded people or else it would just be "have you tried eating?" or "just try harder!" because I'm the one that has to try harder to pace my own mental illness instead of other people trying harder to understand.
I separate the parts of myself that I hate with none left over to love. When there's nothing else to appreciate then it's as if there's nothing else to live for. Though this isn't the reality of things, it's the mirage that I fed myself instead of dinner because dinner is a meal that hates me. Though my therapist never took full note, I would tell him that If breakfast was a person it would spit on me and stomp my face in while calling me hideous and repugnant. Personifying meals to be people that hate me more than my parents and ex-friends is one of the few ways I could ever think about food. Food couldn't be my friend, only my antagonist. Why? Because that's what mental illness can do to you.
Every day is an everlasting battle that I feel I am losing. I don't fear losing it, in fact, sometimes I hope that I do lose this battle. Having breakdowns during dinner only to be yelled at by people who are supposed to support, help and love me only disheartens me. My heart and brain are made out of undried clay, being pulled and torn apart not being able to fully reform their shape. Being told what to do with myself out of "concern" is something that people don't understand is unhelpful. I don't exist and struggle for other people to be concerned, it's one of those things where if I needed help I would ask for it. Struggling doesn't mean you have to get better as soon as you're strained, it's about staying afloat until you can get better on your own accord. There's a certain mentality behind recovery that you have to work on. Recovery isn't easy, it is a long journey and so is stagnation.
-You're doing amazing
xoxo, Syd
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