Self-Mutilation and EDs

Why do people turn to self-mutilation and eating disorders. Or... not why do they turn to them, but why does it consume them. And not them... but us. For I am one of the stricken ones. I am one of the ones who have bled, who have burned, who have starved, and who have purged. I am one of the afflicted.

I guess I could go into a humongous scientifical explanation of this stuff and why people do it. I could analyze every aspect of it. I could make studies, take surveys. But why? Because, after all, only the individual person knows whats inside their head. All the thoughts the feelings the impulses. So I'm not here to talk about why people do it, though I may mention what some of my friends have said as compared to what doctors say. The main reason I am writing this is to examine why I turned to it.

I remember the first time I started starving myself. I remember in the 5th and 6th grade my mom saying things such as "if you keep eating like that you'll get fat." So then I maybe skipped a meal or two. But as i got into jr. high (7th grade) I felt more pressure to fit in, and to prove myself. To prove my worth. Then one time I was talking to my parents, adoption came up. My mom said something like: we're so lucky to have gotten you: you're smart, talented, and pretty. So I took that (now I see for the most part rightfully) as those being the only reasons she saw any worth in me. At this time, my grades were ok: but they weren't all a's. which my mom always complained about. So i started to abandon my feelings for them. also, I thought about her saying i was getting heavier. In truth, it was just me filling out into a woman. but I couldn't help but think I could control it more. Soon, the rest of my life spiraled out of control, and I knew I could control my eating, and in that way at least get my "beauty". I was 5'2" and continuously between 89 lb and 95. I was skinny. and not in a healthy way. When I slept on my side, I woke up with bruises on the insides of my knees. if i bumped into a table, i could expect a bruise on my hips. prolonged tickling left my sides sore, and not in a way that came from laughing. I fainted a couple times. I was 15-20 lbs under my "recommended" weight. a term I still despise. I still control my eating. I would have to say that lately, I've been eating more. that however, only counts for the past 5 days. previous to that i wasn't even getting 500 cals a day. my metabolism (i checked it) buns about 1780 cals a day, without exercise, which I've been doing. the last time I can really remember eating at least 2 good sized meals a day for over a week would have to be a couple years ago. yes: that is how bad it has gotten. Every week, for at least one day, i have controled, or purged what I ate. right now, i believe I weigh... 107 or 108. my "recommended" weight is 115-118. however, my bmi isn't bad. well... it's 19. anything under is considered underweight. 19-21 is optional. If I get down to 104 though... I'll be considered "underweight" In the 8th grade my bmi was 16. that's bad. but i would love to be that weight again. there's just something appealing about it; and i don't know what anymore. but these voices in my head are constantly telling me to not eat. I realized how bad they were the other day when i thought to not lick the cheeto dust off of my fingers bc of the extra cals. it's ridiculous. But still I do it. i can't help it anymore. it feels like it could be the one constant in my life, and one of the things i have control over. it also doesn't help when my parents act how they are. also: purging has this feeling for me: in with the good feelings that come from indulging, and out with the bad feelings that come from guilt of eating. weird; but that's how it works.

cutting and burning. this is just a release: it's like, for the moment: i can forget about the pain on my soul and immerse myself in the pain of my physical body; and i know it will heal. ok: besides the point that i now have many scars, but they are there to remind me. and it also feels like i don't deserve to be happy any way: and if my souls not happy, neither can my body be. also: there's something satisfying to me about watching my flesh melt, or watching the blood leak out and feeling the cool wetness of it as it slides over my skin. don't ask me: that's the way it is. however: i haven't done either lately bc of the deal with carrie: not that it included burning: but i have chose not to.

so i guess i subscribe to a couple of the reasons doctors say: for the control, for the release. but there are so many i can't describe with words that aren't covered in a "diagnosis" of a "disorder" aren't these simply ways of dealing too? certainly: "different" but they are still coping mechanisms, however self-destructive they are. but when i do these, i don't do them to kill myself, or to hurt myself neccessarily (depending on the situation) i do it to escape for a couple of minutes. i do it to get control of my life. i can't control how or why or for how long or how much my soul hurts, but i can control all that in cutting and burning. it's strange. and i'm sorry if you're still confused. but it's one of those things you can't describe or simply understand. it's one of those thing you have to experience to really be able to comprehend the depth that it covers. but i hope none of you ever have to endure the shit i've gone through. and it's better that you don't understand the despair and grief i feel anyway. in any case, i hope i gave you a window into my mind, however warped and blurry it may be (my mind AND the window).