This Too Will Pass

Or nothing lasts forever.

I remembered this, repeated this over and over as I stood in the shower, the freezing water beating against my blistering skin. Waiting, praying, cursing, pleading, weeping, waiting for the antihistamines to work so I could continue to live in my skin. This was my sign. When I was nine, the same thing happened and that was that - no more nuts. But ten years later the unopened kilo bag of almonds lay on the table and without thinking I found myself on the kitchen floor, stuffing fistfuls of nuts into my mouth, my throat already beginning to tighten, my ears burning, my hands burning, numb and still stuffing between my swollen lips.

As I stood in the shower, I could see the weals red and accusing against my skin, I thought of this blog. Never before have so many people cared, commented. And I want to thank every single person who has ever commented on this - your words clung to me as I stood in the shower, resisting the urge to flay my skin off, bringing me back. I took this photograph this afternoon. It kind of reminds of me of all you faceless people who seem so much more real to me than the people I see in front of me.

I haven't taken a photo in weeks. It sounds petty in the grand scheme of things, but I used to rationalise that when you're as self-consumed as I generally am, at least I could see beauty in the tiny details of the world around me. Even when everything I do seems to be somehow tarnished or destined to fall apart then it was a comfort to know I could draw massive pleasure from the tiny petals of a perfect flower or noticing the way the light illuminated a vase of flowers. Knowing that the flower would inevitably decay and yet, I had captured that moment of perfection. It's rained for weeks. I spend my days in front of the tv until someone yells at me to get a job, at which point I usually change the channel. I just have no motivation to do anything. I live off cabbage soup for three days and then when someone offers me approximately 16, 789 calories in the form of a family meal I'm too apathetic to refuse or even purge afterwards. Even my new form of self-torture can't shake this apathy. Inevitably after bingeing, I find myself on the facebook photos of the ex-Boyfriend's new girlfriend. (yes, he did dump me because he had too many 'issues' to cope with a relationship and because he had too little time for me and because he didn't want to hurt me anymore and because...) I'm pretty sure she has an ED. Spindly arms, bony legs, jutting hips, chiseled cheekbones. Everything I want. And I imagine them having sex. And I imagine him holding her and telling her he loves her and holding her hand and making his awkward jokes and her waking up and finding him next to her.

So clearly he didn't dump me because he didn't have enough time for a girlfriend. You just have to read the comments people have left on here to realise that. And I have this overwhelming desire to passively be a victim. I want to stay and cry in front of my computer and then eat and eat and eat and cry and eat and cry and cry and eat.