30 days of music – Day 28: Name a song that makes you feel guilty
I have almost been dreading this post. Not dreading… apprehensive. Maybe that’s the right word.
The song that makes me feel guilty is/was “Hurt” by Johnny Cash. Not the NIN version. Specifically the Johnny Cash version.
*sigh* Okay… here we go…..
I have mentioned before that I was crazy. I was. I am. Depends on the day and how you see it.
I was/am bulimic. I sorta believe that it’s like being an alcoholic. Once you are, you are. Your goal is to be less of one than more.
Some days are worse than others. In most cases, I feel like I am still in recovery, but I have my issues.
Believe me – I like to eat. But I get a little disordered sometimes. For example, I still have a hard time eating in front of people. And that is everyone, as a general rule. Not sure why – it just is what it is. I don’t like it, either. Actually, I find that I sort of have this internal struggle, because I feel like the fact that I am *not* eating is drawing more attention than what I would be eating. And then, I feel like, maybe, it makes people feel bad. Like maybe I am not comfortable around them, or that I have some underlying issue. It isn’t that at all.
I can be comfortable enough to get naked in front of you, but eating a plate of food just seems like the worst thing in the world.
When I was crazy, I would listen to this song when I was feeling pretty disordered. I was caught between feeling sorry for myself, feeling out of control, and feeling like, “Hey! At least I’m not shooting heroin.” Yeah… funny how we reason with ourselves.
I kept it on my iPod for years. But it became the song that made me feel bad when I listened to it. I actually felt myself getting crazier when I heard it. Like, it opened the door for foolish and misleading thoughts.
When I was crazy, I actually withdrew into the illness. I used it as a shield; like a shelter. It was my friend. It was my enemy. It was my comfort. It was my pain. And I used it for every feeling. To control every single moment of every day. And the rush of control and relief and panic and shame and guilt… they were all a part of the company I kept in it.
I lied to people. I had a friend tell me, “I don’t care how much weight you lose, as long as you don’t become one of those crazy people.” I laughed it off and said, “No… it’s not like that, at all.” I lied. I was already starving myself. And I was just a few months from purging.
I wish I could have been honest. I wish I could have asked for help. Right then. How different things could have been for me. Instead, I hid behind it. I thought, “I’ve got this under control” because I mistakenly thought to myself, “I can stop anytime I want.” Yeah… famous last words, huh?
In hindsight…. is it really different than heroin? I mean, I didn’t overdose on it. And thankfully, many moons later, I was able to realize how *not* in control I really was.
It’s taken from then until now to realize a lot of magnitude in this.
I was Hurt. And I haven’t listened to this song in a long time. Simply because it makes me hurt all over again.
My public service announcement of the day:
If you stumbled onto this post and you need help, get it. If any of this rings true for you, get help. It isn’t admitting weakness to ask for help. The strongest people I know can ask for help when they need it. It will get better. And you will feel better, some day.
But it starts today. Admitting it. You will recover. But it begins today.