Tell me; am I very far?

I'm scared all the time now.
I can't be alone but the company of other people is too painful and foreign.
There's this weight that sits on my chest.
Everything is too hard, too loud, too much, too intense, too big, and never manageable enough.
Sometimes I can't wake up.
I'm aware of my wakefulness but my body won't move; my heart pitter patters too slow and I feel like I'm drowning in my own body.
Other times I wake up in a cold sweat anxiety seeping from my pore there is a horrid dream sitting on the tip of my tongue and for some reason I can only remember the fear.
I find myself staring off into space and tuning whole days out.
Walking without being aware of it.
My own thoughts are screeching sirens.
I've been here before.
Something is different this time.
There's this huge detail I refuse to look at.
A knife that is plunged deep into my back: I can feel it but if I don't look at it it doesn't exist.
I smile smile smile and everything just seems to get worse worse worse.
My own terror; the thing that is killing me, seems to be the only thing driving me.
I'm not ready for this-
I can't grow up yet please don't make me.
I'm terrified.

PSA

If you see that I have unfollowed you please don't be alarmed.
Message me about it so I know which blog you own.
It could have been an accident but I have unfollowed a lot of blogs.
If I unfollowed you purposefully it is because your blog was either very triggering or I do not share the same views as you.
I sincerely apologize if my unfollowing has offended you in any way.

Neutral?

Sam sweetheart I sent it so you should get a notification in that email soon!

This other blog
I'm running will have daily food and exercise logs and pictures of the food I'm eating.
I have a page for my weigh ins and a list of the food I eat.
Really it's meant for me to be able to keep track of my weight loss in a clear organized way but if people are interested in reading they can.
I'll probably put other mundane things like what I'm reading and what I do on a daily basis.
Again it's really just a way for me to document whats going on in my life right now.
This blog stands more for my emotions and how I am feeling mentally which is really helpful and will be for when I look back on it but it doesn't help me remember things well??
I have been experiencing little memory holes,, like I'll try to think of a year or two ago but I only have little snap shots.
So I feel like if I become more diligent with keeping up with my blogs I can help fill some of the gaps.
It's not really special but this other blog will be really triggering and I'll probably post before and after pictures and maybe if I'm feeling really adventurous I'll do vlogs???
I probably won't make it public because of how triggering it is for me and the last thing I want to do is trigger other people so again just leave a comment or message me an email address you use so I can add you to the reading list.
I'll probably post more later.

new blog

I have a new blog to record my weight loss and such.
Its private because its incredibly triggering but if you wish to have daily updates on how I'm doing just send me an email adress I can have the notification sent to.*

* I do reserve the right to say I don't feel comfortable giving it to a user. I probably will only allow a select amount of people read it as it will be highly personal.

I am the biggest coward of all

I need to make certain decisions pertaining to how I want my life to play out.
For a long time now I have been putting it off content to live in my limbo of not too sick but not recovered either.
Its almost like a fake stability.
Not entirely ready to face life but also not ready to let go of my dreams.
I feel very torn between two halves of myself.
On the one hand I am very ready to get back to my life.
I have been living a sort of non existence for a very long time ago and a very large part of me is ready to experience life again.
But then another enormous piece of myself is screaming for the justification; some semblance of achievement as a disordered person.
Which if I'm being honest is bullshit and I'm just afraid that if I get better I'll stop meaning anything.
I will go through a huge identity crisis because holy shit I contracted these disorders during a key time in my developing a personality.
But in hind sight that is obviously better than the amount of suffrage I will have to go through to feel some sort of accomplishment.
If I'm being completely truthful I know that I will never in my life experience a feeling of satisfaction in my illness.
I will never gain anything but horrifying agony and I won't ever feel sick enough to warrant any type of help.
But rather than allow myself to be rational about this I will throw all logical thinking out the window.
I'd rather throw more years of my life away before admitting that I'm just a coward who doesn't know how to properly convey how I feel about myself.
Please do not ever mistake my cowardice for bravery.
It isn't courage you see written here.
It is a lie.
A pretty lie that a scared little girl tells herself so she won't have to own up to the mistakes she's made or face the consequences of her actions.

I know better.
I should never let it have happen.
Now I'm going to suffer for it.
There isn't anything worse than hope and don't you let anyone try to tell you otherwise.
Hoping for something better than you have; something more.
The strength to grind your demons into sparkly dust or maybe just enough courage to get through the day.
Well eventually the days get longer and the hours stretch into the wastelands you will perish in.
Your flesh is going to slough off your bones and the very essence of your being will be reduced to petrified goop.
I'd take nothing over this.
Apathy is beyond blissful after you've experienced the agony of your own mental atrophy.
Pitiful though isn't it?
To have actually gone so far only to slit your throat at the finish line; the fear of failing so overbearing that it crushes your very last hope of getting there.
Of getting better.
I was hoping I could recover even if it was half-hearted and for the sake of others.
It was an idiotic feat and I was foolish for ever believing it would work.
I have only succeeded in sabotaging my every attempt to feel even remotely okay.
Enough.
I am done and to be quite honest I don't think I can do it anymore.

Inhale to the top of my lungs, I'll be dying for this

My entire life I have been filing all the things I want out of life into little boxes and putting them on a shelf for later.
But later never comes.
All of the things I have every wished for or dreamed of withered away with my ability to function.
And for what?
So I can hide in my own self loathing and pretend I'm living a life I actually like?
I hate it.
I hate every aspect of my not-really life.
Hiding that's what I'm doing.
I shut myself away in these four walls and tell myself it's normal.
Normal to fear relationships and people.
It is 100% normal in my world to cower from expectations and responsibilities.
And you know what?
That's totally fucked up.
I have a panic attack and then give up on whatever it is that scares me.
I'm not going to recover anytime soon because I'm not ready.
But telling myself that the day will never come is a stupid pointless lie.
I have hopes and dreams and I won't abandon them in favor of a life viewed through a computer monitor.

I just finished a 75 minute work out and now I'm going to shower and make myself a cup of coffee.
I'm going to then go on an hour long walk and smoke my cigarettes.
I won't quit making bad decisions today or maybe even tomorrow.
It might take fifteen years for me to get truly better.
But it won't be because I'm running or hiding.
I just want to savor the feeling for a little while longer.