As I stare into the void

This is my last day off until I start work properly. The last day until I’m teaching in my chosen field.

I feel like I have no idea. Like I’m out of my depth, that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve forgotten how to teach, forgotten everything I’m supposed to know.

I’m absolutely terrified.

Beyond this I have interviews, volunteering. Racing.

All this time I’ve scared that someone will say something.  Shout that I’m a fraud. I don’t have a clue. I’m pretending to be good at all this.

That I’m not worthy. I can’t do this. I’m bulimic for God’s sake.

You’re a mess. A Nutter. A loser

You can’t even eat like a normal human.

This cycles around my head all day. There is no break from this. No respite.

In my mind I will never be good enough. Never clever enough. Never know enough.

Never smart, confident, pretty, outgoing, strong, brave.


How do I move on from this?

How do I get a life from this black shit heap that I’ve ended up in?

Why did I have an amazing afternoon with my family and spend a significant chunk of time bending over a toilet?

Why do I look at my cousin in jealousy? At her stick thin arms and legs, her neck I could fit one hand around.

And I wonder. Are you anorexic? Are you starving? How can you cope with the hunger?

I fucking hope you achieve everything you ever wanted.

Because at this rate I want to be dead in the next year.

I can’t cope with this expectation. All the family members that think I’m doing fine. That I’ve got this a sorted.

That I’m brave, and amazing and wonderful for doing what I love.

And I can’t cope with how many people now know what I’m aiming for. It’s one thing to disappoint your family again and one thing to let absolutely everyone you know down.

I want to do this and I want to curl up and sleep forever.

The moments or focus and clarity and pure concentration when I think  I can do this. I’ve got this.

I’ve been working towards this for 4 years.

And then I want my whole brain to fall apart again because I don’t want it to be my fault I fail.

I want to blame mental illness still because I’m not ready for responsibility.

I don’t want to be the reason that I fail.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

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