I do something ridiculous. I walk sideways down the stairs at work when I wear heels. When I walk sideways or even on my toes, my shoes can be kept from making that way-too-loud-for-such-a-quiet-space sound. But what I realize even more is that the sound means I exist. Even when I walk I am trying to exist as little as possible.
I want to live an adventure but I don't want to exist. Doesn't make sense? Yeah, I know, too much about living with an eating disorder doesn't make sense.
I am doing ok. Not spectacular but not bottoming out either. And yet I still cringe at the mere fact that I exist. My body existing in numbers pisses me off. The fact that I need a body pisses me off. I want to live but I hate existing. I hate that my shoes make noise on the stairs, it is just more proof that I cannot disappear, that I take up space. I want to fade into the background somewhere and not be noticable.
How can I feel good about life and yet terrible about living in the same sentence? How can I be content with my life and hate that my body takes up space at the same moment? How can I feel loved and lonely simultaneously?