Tell Me...

Here's a (maybe not so) funny fact I have come to learn in the last few weeks. *I need to stop reading so much* The stats are in and it appears the likelihood of me recovering are not quite in my favour. The chances that I will die before I ever get better has a higher probability. Only one third of people who suffer from an eating disorder will ever fully recover. I'm sorry, did I choose to scan past that minor detail when I was spewing out statistics back in May? Well, I never saw it. Discouraging? Slightly... I'm going to say priority goes to those who have people watching them 24/7. I should re think my game plan? So really, what's the point? My life, my life is a fight every day inside my head. An argument only I can hear, only I can see. I'm kicked to the ground and appear to be standing. I'm smiling but crying behind the laughs. I'm living but slowly dying inside. Arguing against Ed's voice takes up all of my energy. Trying to reason with Him that I do, in fact, deserve to live as much as the next person. He's inside my head whenever I eat. Belittling me and snickering behind His devious smile that I was so weak to have sunk so low by putting something as silly as that in my mouth. Purge. I'm constantly trying to tune Him out but His voice is louder than my own. I see Him standing side by side with me as I look at my own reflection, with a disgusted look upon His face, cursing how morbidly fat I have become. Restrict. He lays next to me in bed at night, and comes to work with me during the day. We have coffee dates, we read together and walk together. He's even leaning over my shoulder as I write these words, as so to make certain that I don't give him
a bad wrap. *Sorry, Ed, you blew your rep long time ago. It's you, not me* So you see, it's a fight from when I wake up in the morning, till I lay my head down on my soft pillow at night. It's a fight that doesn't end. That no one sees nor understands. One that can't ever go away. So really, what's the point anymore?