Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Evil Mirror

Standing infront of the mirror. Always. Everyday. Same spot. Same thing. Same pain. Every day! The evil mirror. I cant take it off the wall, its stuck up there. It hurts me. I don't recognize the image I see in there. the thighs are huge. The face is blurry. Hips are wide. Arms are fat. Skin is yellow. Tired. Eyes unrecognizable. Belly big. Neck short. Hair messy. I covered the mirror with my scarf so I wouldn't see myself. I didn't exist those days. Size of cloths  36. weight unknown, but about 50 kg the most. Feeling: size 44-46, weight 80. Unbeautiful. Evil mirror makes me hate myself. I am so unbeautiful. I see things that aren't there. I see myself fat and ugly. lame and retarded. uncool and boring. not worthy and useless. I go to the therapy every Tuesday. I bring it out. I deal with it. I break down. it hurts like hell. I cry. I go home and fight. I feel alright for a little while. But then I bump into a skinny mother pushing the baby trolley and I wonder how can she be that skinny with few months old child and I am so big with no children. I recognize it is an illusion. but I hate her anyway. then I walk slow. ground myself. move my feet and feel my legs. try and recognize my breath, try to recognize the place. try to recognize who I am. I get myself back and I see a lady with a style. I hate her immediately and I hate myself for being no creative and punish myself for not coming up with such cool ideas how to dress up. I feel lame. then I watch people walk, talk on phones, fight, laugh, drink coffee, wear theirselves high ... and everything slowly gets quite. my heart beat slows down, my moves are almost blurry, my mind is shutting down... smell disappears. sound disappears. my face drops. I am gone. I don't feel. I look around and I don't know where I am. I get lost. I don't remember what brought me there. I don't remember what was I suppose to do and where was I suppose to be. I don't remember who I am. I don't know. I don't feel anything. I don't feel mybody. its spooking me up! Then something wakes me up. or doesn't. depends on a day. sometimes I drift away for few hours, sometimes I recognize my condition after few minutes and I try bring myself back. I know the technique now. Then it frees me.
I feel. I love. I sing. I dance. I hope. I dream. I eat. I laugh. until the moment when I see myself in the evil mirror.. the mirror that reminds me that all the good feelings are just illusion. I am fat and ugly and lame and boring and useless and worthy. I don't eat. I cry. I hate. I scream. I ache. I let it out. I let it go. The I feel the pain. The pain reminds me of my body. I do the technique and bring myself back to the room. I rest. I am free-er than before. I smell again. I hear again. It makes more sense. I am me. I have bulimia. That is alright. It takes time to recover. I am gentle to myself. I make myself cup of tea. I take hot shower and treat my skin well. I brush my hair and my eyes spark. I see hope. I have faith. I sleep well. it is warm. I eat good. I smell coffee. I dress happy. I see the day. I see the sun. I feel the morning. I sing. I bounce. I give. I am alright. then is see the skinny lady. I close. My eyes change. I shiver. My heart beat speeds up. I stare at her thighs, I hear the voice telling me I am fat. I am angry. I hate. I realize I am at work. so I shut myself. put the smile on my face. I don't feel. I find a corner and do the technique. I bring my body back to earth. but I cant eat. I am lost. I play. I act. I go to the therapy. I am scared. I feel nothing. Then I break down. I let myself feel. I feel. I yell. I cry. I let it go. I recover. I shine. then I see the evil mirror again. And I wanna run away from myself. I don't wanna be me.
The battle continues.
I am here, and yet I am lost. I eat, and yet I starve. I laugh, and yet I suffer. I shine, and yet I cry. I love, and yet I hate.

That is the stage I am at at the moment.
Aint shinny, aint dark. and all of it I see.

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