Welcome to my nightmarish reality life with BPD and BULIMIA following attempted suicide


Once upon a time there was a high achieving individual who was striving for perfection. Who binged/purged, cut themself and cried every night.  wished things would get better but they never did. The individual never got the “happy ending”, that one is me! I destroyed my body for the peace of mind I never got.

I can’t escape my thoughts, do you know what it’s like to be tortured by your own mind? Sometimes I don’t want to wake up because for so long everydays been the same and I’ve been waiting for so long for things to change. Only 5 years ago I never would’ve expected my life to have turned out like this.. but oh my god I’m so freaking sick of apologising to everyone when I’m the one collapsed on the floor with tears tumbling down my face and fighting the urge to end it all, to take my own life. 

Once you’re caught in Mia’a grasp it’s a vicious cycle, it’s a horrific place to be stuck in. It starts with something that “triggers” you, then you get the craving urges. After that you begin to binge which ultimately leads to purging to avoid the dreaded weight gain, but the binge/purge leads to feelings of shame and disgust so then you begin restricting or strict diet and exercise regimes which leads to tension and the process begins again. Though they say a flower can’t grow without a little rain, I’ve come to the conclusion that despite that theory- isn’t it also true that too much rain kills the flower?

Purging is like a drug, trust me it really isn’t nice to purge. It feels awful but it slowly becomes addictive. The illusion of safety, the idea that you can go back in time, control your body and do what no one else would dare to do. But after purging the nasty feeling consumes you – the shaking hands, light headed, dizziness, tiredness, feeling exhausted, the stench of vomit on your breath, swollen cheeks, your eyes cry involuntarily as you sit on the floor hunched over the toilet. Like I said Purging is like a drug. It makes you think you like it ,while it slowly consumes you. What you purge, purges you. You lose control, you lose yourself, you become addicted, you destroy yourself but worst of all – you don’t even notice! Until it’s too late and the damage has been done.

When I was younger and first learned about suicide I was utterly shocked. I couldn’t understand how anyone could be so tortured that they’d contemplate or even attempt to end their life. All I can say now is – isn’t it funny how fast things can change? On impulse I swallowed two bottles of benzodiazepines, I spent many nights alone cutting my arms and thighs deeper and deeper. I either binge till I purge or I starve myself, sleep for 16 hours or have insomniac nights, fall in love hard or hate with a passion. Fire words of hate – telling you I hate you or to go or be in love and begging you not to leave me. I don’t know what grey is but to tell you the truth- I never did!

Dying to be pretty became a disease, I was slowly killing my self just dying to fit in. Nowadays my recovery is just one big “I’ll try harder/I’ll try again tomorrow”. If you give up on me, I’ll give up on me too. But for now I’m not totally useless – I can always be used as  the demonstration of a bad example.

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