More Than I’d Like to Admit

I am hurting.

Yes, things were going downhill for a while. Yes, I asked him to leave. Yes, I know it was the right thing and I will be okay.

But I’m still hurting.

And I’m exhausted.

I just wish I could sleep. For a week. At least.

I try to go bed early. But I end up watching tv or my thoughts take over. And the next thing I know it’s almost midnight. Then the alarm goes off. And it’s just too early. I lie in bed contemplating whether or not to take the day off work. But going to work always wins out. If I want to take the week off after thanksgiving, then I need to go to work. What will I do if I stay at home? Watch dvd’s, since he took cable and internet? Why should I waste a day doing absolutely nothing? And going to work will get me out of the house.

I have my literature class tonight. There’s a paper that’s due. I just can’t bring myself to write it. I’ve tried. Somewhat. I have an opening paragraph. That’s all. I keep telling myself that I’ll do it, but I can’t seem to get to it. I’ve convinced myself that I’m willing to hand it in late and get a lower grade. Maybe I am.

I totally binged on dinner last night. It was like old times. I hadn’t even realized I had done it until the food was gone. I tried to rationalize that I was legitimately hungry, especially since I’ve been unconsciously restricting since the weekend. I felt so sick after. And I started feeling really anxious. About the food, the separation, the undone homework. It just all seems like too much. I wanted so badly to purge. But I didn’t let myself. Part punishment, part exhaustion.

I’m just trying to keep it together. And I don’t know how much longer I can.

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