Anomie

Anomie: a state one finds themselves when the expectations placed upon them are unknown

It's something we've been talking about in my Sociology class, it's classified as a state of feeling that humans appreciated when our society moved from mechanical to organic solidarity, basically when the caveman became a modern day citizen, in a generic not-so-many-words, definition.

This seems to be what I've been feeling lately. I spent the last 4 days binging, after coming off of my fast, from binging. I feel hopeless, lost, unguided, strange, unfamiliar and so so confused. I have no idea what to do with myself, I'm just scared of everything.

I'm scared of food. I ate so much, and bad bad bad stuff, really bad stuff, and a lot of it. It's all I can think of, I literally see the foods I ate with legs chasing me, trying to stick to my body with velcro and the only thing I can think of doing is exercising. Keep moving, don't stop or it will catch you.
So I burnt over 1200 calories on the elliptical this afternoon before my mom came home from work.

It's not enough. I stepped on the scale and it said 138.6 and its taking everything inside of me to not drag a knife across my arms right now. Everything is all wrong, this isn't supposed to happen.
No one's supposed to make me do anything, make me eat.
I'm supposed to starve, because that's what I deserve.
I'm supposed to be thin, it's what I'm meant for.
He's supposed to fall back in love with me.
I'm supposed to be this entirely different person.
And I can't figure out where everything fell apart.

I'm horribly depressed, today was the first actual 'day' it feels like. All I've done lately is lie in bed like a tub of lard and eat, in bed. Like some invalid, with no strength.

Longer and longer my list grows, of everything I keep putting off and it's become this big scary monster I'm afraid to face. I literally feel like a child hiding in the corner right now.

I haven't eaten today, yet. I don't know if I will. It all feels so unsafe. I'm home alone for the rest of the night so it's easy to get away with. I want to keep working out, I want to punish myself, I want to be in pain. I need to feel the pain.

I don't even know what's supposed to be considered 'normal' anymore. Last night my mom organized an actual sit down dinner for my sister and I, and even though I was in binge-mode I stuck to about 1/4 cup of veggies and 1 fake-chicken strip. I just couldn't eat in front of my own family, I knew either way I was going to be judged and I didn't want them to think I was fat. So I only ate a little, waited until mom went to bed and then made my typical 6-7 trips into the kitchen to eat. I hate myself.

I really really need to stop tearing myself down. It's feeding into itself and becoming such a big problem. I've booked myself an appointment with my GP and I'm going to talk to him about getting diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder. I'm terrified to even go into the office, I know I'm playing with fire here. I don't want to let on too much, but I know I fit the criteria 100%. The problem this is becoming is with this damn public speaking class I can't seem to face. Even when I talk to Andrew about it, which has honestly been the biggest help, it terrifies me. It's irrational, I know it, he's told me how chill the class is, everyone there seems nice, there should be no problem. I just seem to have the undeniable feeling that every time I stand up and walk to the front of the class everyone is looking at me, and I'm all wrong. I don't know how to be 'normal' anymore. I feel like I'm so fucked up that the littlest things I do are weird and wrong and everyones noticing and thinking it, and those girls there who are laughing are laughing at me, and everyone thinks I'm fat, and my thighs are too big, and my outfit is weird and every little part of me is all wrong.

I know he'll probably recommend me to a therapist of some sort if I divulge too much information. So I'm mentally categorizing what is 'safe' and what is 'unsafe' so that I can keep certain disordered parts of me off limits. Ideally, I'd walk out of the office with a prescription for anti-anxiety medication, (which will further fuel my cycle-analyzation of how I am slowly turning into my uncle/father but that's a whole other chapter of crazy) worst case scenario he recommends me to a talk-doctor of some sort who is better equipped to diagnose me and recommend treatment. If he does this, I've decided it would be safe to go to 1 session, see what she thinks, and then re-evaluate. I can't keep hiding in bed for a week at a time, I don't want that to be my life. But I don't know how to help myself.

The thing is, I'm doing this to be happy. But I won't be happy until I'm thin, and this happy person I'm trying to bring back out, is thin, in my mind. I have no desire to seek recovery or treatment for my ed, I just need a little bit of help treating it's symptoms. Sure, call it a band-aid, whatever, I don't care if it's not helping me in the long run. I just know that right now, this, is not working.