Can It Just Stop.

It's just so difficult to allow such a rare (positive) spark enter my head, yet I loathe how the people around me play the heaviest role in pulling me back into darkness. It doesn't matter anymore whether they are conscious or unconscious about their intentions, today's the day where I step back into a space. A space which doesn't hesitates to mute the voices from outside. Access is temporarily or permanently? Fate shall decide.

Let's not hide or deny anymore & lay things straight, I'm furiously writing about my eating disorder again. Yes, furiously is the word. To start off, I'll first ask the questions you need answered, - "What happened? Why are you bringing this up again? Aren't you getting better?" Trust me, I feel the confusion too. Since the last time I wrote about this issue, it was a post worth writing to let out my inner gloom. By a scarce grasp of willingness to fight off the demons as describe on the first line, I forced myself to eat, bite, chew like a normal kid. Joy & long lost excitement got to me again. College life seems like a story I'd find interestingly fun to live in. Could say I actually forgot about being the kid who contemplate about food, fat & calories every single second my heart beats. Dear anorexics & bulimics out there, I'm sure you'd understand how rare it is to have propitious moments like this.

Until it all ended today.

After environmental studies class today, I strolled my way to Subway nearby to grab a few White Chocolate Macadamia cookies before my ride home arrived. I carelessly chomped my way during a 20 minute wait, then tagged along my family to a Malaysian cafe for tea-time before heading home. Just stating, the tea-time with them was unplanned so I was stuffed after that. About two & a half hours later, we had homemade pasta with cream for dinner. During that time, my tummy wasn't feeling well from all the cookies & (unhealthy) snacks I ate in the evening, plus I was still glutted. With such valid reasons, I told my parents that I'll have a smaller portion of pasta instead of the full plate they served me. Out of nowhere, my mom shot the bullets at me saying I'd be the person to blame if we don't have tea-time sessions or her cooking dinner again etc. Basically she was forcing me to eat up everything on my plate so she doesn't crack her voice again. 

Without a choice, I oblige myself to scoop up spoonfuls & swallow every bit of food while my tummy terribly hurts. What hit me at first wasn't being sick or dealing with something people around me don't, but the horribly wrong informal education my parents enforced on me. I don't know how to elaborate what they said more & all the hurtful thoughts swirling through my head, but they just don't know that they are the ones killing me with an invisible dagger, pushing me off balance after each time I struggle to stand. At that intense moment, all I could think was 'shit I have to purge later', 'gosh I don't think my body can stand this', 'fuck it I'm gonna relapse', 'why are my parents doing this to me'. It just appears to be so unfair to the point I'd done mostly everything to save myself, but they relentlessly do the exact opposite to screw me up. How can one's parents don't give a shit about their kid dealing with a fatal disorder after their kid actually confronting them, and instead speak as if they want the kid to feel the worst? You tell me.

I just really want to stop eating & burn this issue into permanent ashes. Alanis xx.