𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩

blocked out

look at me gooo, really trying to update for u guys as much as possible since I've been so absent these last couple of months!!

Hope you enjoy, love J xx

TWS: eating disorders, mental health disorders (anxiety, depression), mentions of suicide, Self harm (cutting, mentions of blades etc.)

Please read at your own risk. x

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After a painful, draining shower I headed downstairs to 'eat dinner'.

It was so very awkward.

The silence was extremely loud, and then, once I had excused my self from the table they started talking, joking and acting like a real family.

I was mid way walking up the stairs before I had a dizzy spell, and I stopped to regain stability.

I had heard Alex spark up a conversation, in which the others replied, then laughter followed.

It was silent while I was there.

In the quiet, slow spot on the stairs, away from the kitchen, I couldn't escape the overwhelming sense of feeling unwanted, and lonely.

Each passing second while I stood there, seemed to reinforce the notion that I was just a mere outsider, an afterthought in the lives of my brothers.

The laughter echoing through the walls only intensified my feelings of isolation and loneliness, as I grappled with the weight of what I've done, and what I'm like.

In the company of my brothers, a subtle aching and guilty feeling settled in my chest, a constant reminder of what I look like, and how they perceive me, which seemed to widen with every unmet glance and look in my direction, which just longed for connection.

Connection, with the once bouncy, cheerful little girl they knew as their sister.

All I long for is my brothers acceptance, craving a place where I could be liked, again.

Yet the previous unspoken currents of indifference around the dinner table just leaves me adrift in a sea of isolation.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I pull myself up the stairs, into the bathroom.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I place the towel in the gap between the door and the floor, before crouching down beside the toilet; throwing up the small amount I ate.

Once I finish, I stand up and start to brush my teeth, standing and looking at myself in the mirror.

My eyes are dark, and my face looks pale.

I don't look like me anymore.

Amidst looking back at myself, and the added  shadows of self-reflection, I find it increasingly challenging to embrace the stranger I can see in the mirror.

The mirror, which holds memories of a little girl full of life, now reflects a myriad of my flaws and self- inflicted insecurities.

Each self-critical thought etched a line of discontent on my face, inducing even more hate, and venom.

My self-doubt is now an unwelcome companion.

The weight of not liking myself hangs heavily, causing my shoulders to droop of guilt, guilt of disappointing my brothers.

The decision not to eat is becoming a silent battleground, causing destruction wherever I go.

It's eating me inside out, slowly tearing away every piece of me, until eventually, mentally,  I feel I won't be here anymore.