Yesterday.
Skin shrunk tight flesh bulging stretching while I writhe, helpless and shivering, breaths go out but none come in, turn me up and shake me hard I am never getting out of here. Life leapt back like cleared sands before the tidal wave, swooping and drowning, clear clear crystal fear and the high scent of decay. I tremblefloated. Emailed Robert these words, “I think I’m having panic attacks. I don’t know.”
No food at all. Freezing cold, skin in pain, joints achey, suck down more chilled water, ignore the sweater thrown over my chair, clutch at my desk to stay upright, shake shake shake and I am immobile and so afraid. No air.
Drive in frozen daze to the emergency room. ”active eating disorder” “severe anxiety” “would you like another blanket”
Home today, still not functioning. Intake: 1.5 glasses of water.
Please stop telling me things get worse before they get better. I used to tell myself that. This is purgatory and I choose hell.
