On the surface I have a desirable life. A job I love, doing well in college to further my career, a dad and siblings who love me. I'm not too well off financially but I can afford the necessities and a few small luxuries. I should have everything anyone wants.
But what's the fucking point of all of that when internally every day is a struggle. I relapsed into my eating disorder over a year ago at this point. My days are filled with calorie counting, self-hatred, panic when I put anything in my mouth, I spend the day ruminating over whatever number was on the scale that morning. My depression is horrific and I ran out of treatment options for it years ago. I finally stopped going to therapy because it was a waste of time. Outwardly I present so well. But I don't let people come visit me because I'm too depressed to keep my apartment from being disgusting. It is near impossible to muster up the energy to clean my apartment, it's embarrassing the state it gets to sometimes. I can't continue living. And when I die people will say they don't understand because I seem like I have it all. If only they knew what it was like in my head.
But what's the fucking point of all of that when internally every day is a struggle. I relapsed into my eating disorder over a year ago at this point. My days are filled with calorie counting, self-hatred, panic when I put anything in my mouth, I spend the day ruminating over whatever number was on the scale that morning. My depression is horrific and I ran out of treatment options for it years ago. I finally stopped going to therapy because it was a waste of time. Outwardly I present so well. But I don't let people come visit me because I'm too depressed to keep my apartment from being disgusting. It is near impossible to muster up the energy to clean my apartment, it's embarrassing the state it gets to sometimes. I can't continue living. And when I die people will say they don't understand because I seem like I have it all. If only they knew what it was like in my head.
