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|Wed, 12-10-2008 - 4:56pm|
I'm sitting here and typing from a very uncomfortable position - in the knowledge that even though you wouldn't, most of you could say 'I told you so'.
I should not have gone to the wedding - I know I shouldn't have done. I should have protected myself better. The problem is, I just kind of switched off. I am 9 years old again, and terrified - but resigned. The frustration I feel at myself is enormous. And I guess that being childlike means I am treated like a child. I have to take meds, call in at the centre, I have to follow the dieticians plan to the letter. To the absolute calorie. It is so so hard. I have to be analysed and prodded and poked.
I am so close to giving up. I feel so broken. This year has been so so so hard. I know other people have it tougher than me - hell, I have jobs, a home, nice clothes. But I still cry myself to sleep at night. I still feel lonely. I still feel empty and smashed up into pieces.
Is this really it? 6 small meals a day, a handful of pills, naps, work, therapy, sleep, begin again.
It feels like starting over. Only this time it's so much harder. I can't do this anymore :(