The story of an obsession.

Sometimes when I'm feeling down I try to imagine myself having died like a movie or something and I think about all the people I love and how they would react/be affected and its so sad to think about that I can't justify putting them in that much pain just so that I could leave and be in peace.

I feel like its a weird scientific law that the world was giving "this much" pain and sometimes you'll have it sometimes your friends will have it but you can't take out pain just shift it around so some people get a turn with it. I feel like if I "left" I'd just be dumping my share of pain on them.

Dying is easy and living is hard. But its the things that are hard and that you have to work at that are the things worth accomplishing and having.

I don't have a problem.
I have never been diagnosed as bulimic or anorexic and unless I'm forced into recovery I will never ever believe that I have a problem. I should be the only person able to decide if its a problem because it would be MY problem and nobody else's. If people found out it wouldn't be mine anymore it would be there's. They would constantly be rubbing your face in how it affected THEM and not just you. They'd say things like you don't know what its like for THEM. They'd either claim that it was all THEIR fault or that THEY had nothing to do with it. It would be about THEM and you would be left with nothing.

So this morning I was determined to have myself some breakfast so I spent the morning online researching the calories content of various breakfast sold threw out the city. As I was waiting for the bus I went to buy myself some green tea from Bridgehead and a enormous wave of relief swept over me as I smelt the soothing perfume of the tea. Not eating just seems so much easier/simpler then having to calculate and obsess over what's in my food.

As I walked home on an empty stomach I thought about how I should be cranky from lack of food or concentrating on the hunger pains I've been having miserably but in the end no matter how stupid/sick/wrong it might be I feel bad when I eat not when I don't. It was a beautiful day and I felt light and almost giddy as if I was high or something. As much as I know recovery is the right road I'm not 70 pounds therefor although I'm on a dangerous path I'm not on death's doorstep quite yet and for now as brief and shallow as the feeling might be, I feel happy. I simply feel at peace with myself.

What's going on in my head is insanity and I'd rather not shed light on this insanity.
I'll post my story up one day when I have the time and the energy.
Here's one of my favorite quotes:

"Everyone is at war with themselves, that's part of being human. The trick is to be on the winning side."