Passive Suicide

I spent an hour with the dietician yesterday. My doctor referred me weeks ago, to help me with my bingeing. This was my second appointment.

But I’m not just bingeing. I am slowing destroying myself from the inside out. I starve myself for 2 or 3 weeks in an attempt to control ” something ” in my life. But then i lose control then I’ll binge for weeks trying hard every day to get back my self control to stop it. I’m pretty sure I am anemic again : I’m exhausted all of the time and I have no energy. And I’m sure that my blood sugars are all over the map.

My poor digestive system and metabolism doesn’t have a clue what to do anymore. Is it feast? Or famine? Should it store fat? Or start burning fat?

I can’t remember to take my blood pressure medication, unless I am feeling uncomfortably bloated and then the diuretic prescribed for my BP at lease alleviates that. My ADHD drug leaves me with the worst side effects so I don’t take it most of the time. Which is too bad : it’s a drug that is known to reduce appetite. It might actually help my inability to control the binge behavior except that I can’t tolerate the side effects. I asked my Dr to prescribe Wegovy – a drug used that helps type 2 diabetics lose weight. I’m agonizing over my weight gain because I can’t seem to stop it while I’m so out of control, but my Dr won’t prescribe the drug. I feel that if I could get my weight back under control the starving and bingeing cycle might stop. Instead she sent me to a dietician: who is wonderful except its not a matter of me not knowing what’s bad and what’s good. It’s a matter of me not being in the mental state where I can stop what I am doing.

My psychologist said the starving is my way of slowly killing myself. A ” passive suicide”. I wonder if she is right.

It took years and years to get to where I was mentally before Sam died. I was in a good place ; a clear headspace for the first time in years. I had spent most of my life in survival mode. And i was finally living. But now look at me. I’m freefalling hoping for the crash. I was dealing with a lot of stress at work a few weeks ago and the chest pains started and as it radiated down my arm, I thought ” I’m ready” . Except I guess the universe or heaven or whatever you choose to call it, wasn’t ready for me because here I am…. still above the ground.

How the fuck am I supposed to survive any of this? I lost my family : they lost me. So why the hell do I have to stay here?