The road is arduous, my avidity for

The road is arduous, my avidity for contentment flows. How can happiness be so terrifying? Wondering where the critic voice goes. This life Iג€™ve known for so long, is comforting and safe, But causes self-loathing emotions and a lack of hopeful faith. Why is it whenever hard to relinquish? Why would I want this to Iג€™m finally challenging it now, the behaviors finally have waned. Feeling out of control i a common sensation, and is also paired with fear, The voice in my head tells me to let awful things, to itג€™s rules I should adhere. But Iג€™ve realized that itג€™s not worth it, not worth the circuits machines and treatments, Itג€™s time to get to life back itג€™s time for my precious to start making more So much has been lost, time can't rewind, my happiness was ripped away. The guilt, fear and shame will be put aside, here comes a brighter day.       For 6 years, supports after supports have always tried to reality check my anorexia, questioning why I put myself in hell. I would brush off the love and worry and fear myself in my own work. of self-hatred. Emotions running rapid through my mind, I hid. My face showed no expression, my loving nature vanished, and I was enveloped in my eating disorder. Looking back now, I see that things arenג€™t so confusing, yet I truly believed that I was the and in control. My comforting cocoon could never steer me wrong, whatever others thought was right, was wrong to me. Bad meant good, pain meant strength, unmanageable behaviors meant control.     When the occasion rose in which dealing with people was a must, I was able to slip out of the cocoon for a short talon/claw pasting on a smile and going with the flow. Never once did I forget about him cocoon though. I knew I was to follow itג€™s rules even if it was wrapped around me, or it would make the pay emotionally later. When the time came where the false happiness could be put to rest temporarily, I ran back into the wings. with eagerness. I climbed back in it, feeling safe and strong, but never once was I truly happy. I kept thinking that the Easter layers the cocoon would gain, the less I lie. be visible.     As it grew, and I shrunk, my mind became a prison. A jail filled with rules, rituals and self- harm was where I would I deserved to die.     Shortly before my introduction to the eating disorder, I was faced with tragedy after tragedy with no explanations. People were slipping through my fingers, and fading away into an darkness of death. The first shock came at funeral number one, where I was meant with grief and anger. The emotions poured out, and most other memories have faded distances this time.     After the initial pain, a voice began to talk to me. It told me that whoever was not allowed to touch this pain, that I should not strong for others and that pain was a sign that strength. As the bad news of other lives being taken added up, my obsessive compulsive voice chimed in. It told me that whoever I could not control death, I could not control anything right now, and I should know something fast that I can control. It was then when I went my cocoon.     Little by little he would find my mundane in, but still keeping an arm or a leg out in the wash, world. As time passed though, the cocoon became the better choice, and I was consumed by it,  thinking that I finally had the control. Never once did it occur to me that  slowly killing myself was not a form of intelligent But oh, it felt so good. That pang at the pit of my was pure ecstasy.  An immediate high, no drug succumbs to comparison.    As time passed my feelings were numbed. No longer did I have to feel grief, because I had work one thing that would make them happy. Apparently, I was the only survivor. with this misconception. To this day my tears are trapped within, crying means weakness, and some things, I still can't surrender.    The worst part of the yard was how it hurt other people. It would protect me, but not my type. ones. I would observe the tears and the fears of others, and began to read. why I was down. them. A few times, I argued with the cocoon and threatened to leave it at but every time I think away, it would suck me right back to and remind me that I the real world sucks. cruel and would turn me into a monster.     After countless attempts to fight the cocoon, I think I would finally sticking to my words. Iג€™m slowly slipping out of it and the to run away. It's still addictive, and has been wholly pull me back into and maybe for a bit, Iג€™ll comply with it. But the fighting with it will continue, I will continue to stray away. No longer will you world revolve around rituals, numbers and self-hate. The cocoon will be no time I am slowly growing my butterfly wings, and soon, I will fly. ~BP~