PostSecret on Mental Illness

This postcard showed up on PostSecret.com on Saturday night... Is this where I went so wrong? That people have been forced to have a relationship with my illness instead of me? Am I my illness? Are we synonymous? I am depression, anxiety, self injury and the insidious eating disorder. It's not surprising that any attempt to have a relationship with me would only result in having to deal with all of my 'others' too. Who wants that? How can someone be expected to break through the disease to find me? Am I even in there? I find my eating disorder personified. Though I don't call it Ed, Eddy, Edith, Ana, or Mia, it is still mine and mine alone. No one else has an ed like mine. My eating disorder talks to me all the time-in my conscious thoughts and my every sleeping moment. On bad days my eating disorder talks through me and it's very words come out of my mouth-aloud... On those days words come out of my own mouth from ME answering my eating disorder... That is the definition of crazy-talking to your 'other self.' I can see how a relationship with me is nothing more than a relationship with my eating disorder. A relationship with my eating disorder leads to a relationship with the anxiety and severe depression that go with. Where am I in all of this? I'm the crazy one talking to my disorder... go figure. Truly, it's no wonder no one wants to be with me, women are difficult enough without getting a damaged and completely psychotic one. However, what another person sees isn't even the half of the reality of me. I still have some ability to hide the worst of it.


On another note, I'm at a friend's house tonight. We went out to dinner, I got boneless wings (with celery) and convinced his daughter that I like celery so much that I'm eating it even though I'm not hungry. She asked why I wasn't eating the chicken... I know the truth and you probably do too... That's my eating disorder screaming inside my head. It was a restaurant where nearly everything is deep fried, covered with cheese, or drenched in butter... Makes me want to throw up and not from purging... "I told another lie today and I got through this day no one saw through my games. I know the right words to say like 'I don't feel well' and 'I ate before I came.' Then someone tells me how good I look and for a moment, for a moment I feel happy. But when I'm alone no one hears me cry..." I lied to a kid... I ate celery for dinner... After getting a turkey sandwich for lunch and eating half a bite-I didn't like it... I had diet Mt. Dew for breakfast and lunch. Pathetic waste of space. I don't know which voice is stronger, the one screaming at me for being a pathetic waste of space and human emotion or the one disgusted with me for even putting that sandwich to my mouth and swallowing that celery-also calling me a pathetic waste of space... I feel it's the later. My eating disorder hates me more than I do. However, when I don't eat, I have a best friend. I feel strong and beautiful and my disorder agrees. How sick and twisted is that? Better yet, my ed and I will die together-best friends together for life and never apart even in death. how romantic.

So, as much as I hate this postcard, it's because it hits me hard... A relationship with me is nothing more than a relationship with my mental illness... I'm sorry I'm sick. I'm sorry you have to put up with me, it's not fair to you. I'm sorry...