Voicemail

Dear Blog,

You know...I almost broke last night. (I forgot to write this)
I almost called and told someone. I would have told them about you. I would have told them I can't eat anymore. I would have told them everything. I was that weak.

Almost.

You know what though...I didn't, obviously. I don't think they'd want to hear it. I don't think they'd understand. I know they just want to ignore it. It's easier that way. My Mom's seen the pills. I wonder if she heard me crying last night? I wonder if she heard me punch the wall? On my way back from the bathroom, she asked if I was okay. I said yes. Yes Mom. I'm fine. I'm perfectly okay. My eyes aren't swelled. My arm isn't bleeding. My stomach isn't aching. I don't hurt at all.

I don't blame her though. None of this is her fault. I don't want her to know, now that I think about it. I love her too much. I don't want her to know this is what I'm going through. I want her to remain blissfully ignorant. I don't want my room mate to know either. I have always been the Mama of my friends. I've always been the one looking out for them. I don't want my friend's to loose that security with me. I don't want them to notice the giant mess I'm becoming. I don't want them to have to feel any of it. I can't keep them from being hurt by the rest of the world, but I won't be responsible for it. I won't hurt them. I love them too much. I'm glad I never said anything. I've become the good one. I've become the strong one, I think. That's me. I just need a cape now, right? Ha.

I don't know how to be the weak one. I don't know how to be comforted. I don't know how to be okay with feeling this way. I don't know how to tell them I need help. Its okay though, because I have this blog. I can write out everything on here.

I can't believe I almost told them.
But you know, I called, and no one picked up.
That's fine.


Much Love,
M.