idle worship

10/19/2024

(content warnings: eating disorder, substance use)

i wish i could let a good thing be

saw one of my favorite artists in concert tonight, not going to say who in order to avoid doxxing myself. i quite like my anonymity here, though i know no one’s reading. but hey, you never know - someday i could be famous *shot to death for narcissism crimes*

anyway.

the last time i saw him was exactly one week before my first purge. it feels like a lifetime ago, honestly. it sounds dumb, but i’m not at all the same person compared to who i was before then. i was in total denial of my bulimia, wholly fixated on anorexia as the only ‘real’ ed that i could have since i didn’t vomit. then i did, and the obsession faded. now i’m supposedly anorexic, but that’s neither here nor there.

despite being a different person, i still nearly cried to the exact same song that got to me the last time i saw him. everything is different, yet that still remains. no matter how much i change, i'll still scream along. there's something comforting about that, i suppose.

i’ve crocheted things for him each time i’ve seen him. first it was a character from a story he made, then a rat, and now a worm. i’m out of ideas, obviously. he said he loved it, i still feel like i could’ve done better. i try and try to express how much his music means to me but i trip over my words and shove my foot in my mouth because i sleep like shit and don’t eat before anything since my digestive system hates me and i don’t want to look bloated. i’m just totally incoherent and never say what i really want to, then beat myself up for it after the fact. i need to write letters, you wouldn’t get the impression if you read these blog entries but i’m way more eloquent over text (just imagine how awful i am in real life based off of these)

i spent a lot of time after the meet & greet just thinking about how much i hated myself, and i’m sure that’ll be my takeaway from this experience over time, when it really fucking shouldn’t be. i had a good time, nothing bad happened, he was nothing but kind even as i tripped over my words and stammered, but i still just hate myself for it. i always fuck up, no matter what i try, i can never get it right. i should learn my lesson but i don’t. i’m still holding onto hope that i’ll figure it out and make connections one day, though that seems more like a pipe dream as life goes on. my naivety is pathetic.

the other day, i had my first drink. it was partially out of spite, since i was still upset about my mother’s ignorance to my issues, though honestly, i liked it. i just took a shot of raspberry-flavored vodka, it smelled sweet and tasted like rubbing alcohol. it was disgusting, but a few minutes later, it was worth it.

i’d spent all day thinking i was going to die, either by my own hand or due to outside circumstances. vodka took that all away. i just felt fuzzy and floaty and a bit dizzy, i crocheted for a bit, gave my cat kisses, then played mobile games in bed until i passed out. it’s the best i’ve felt in a while, and dear god do i wish i had another shot right now.

this could become a problem easily, and alcohol is an especially bad idea given the only abnormality in my labs were decreased liver enzymes. i don’t really give a shit, though. i can’t purge 24/7, i need to vary my coping mechanisms or else i’ll lose it, especially as i continue in college.

i hoped i would make friends or something, instead i’m developing an addiction. not even the fun kind - i never thought i’d like alcohol, i always thought i’d want stimulants, not depressants. it makes sense in the end, though. i’m always looking for a way to turn my brain off.

maybe one day i’ll do it permanently.

~april