This feeling is far beyond wanderlust; it is an undeniable need. A need to break free of the chains of normalcy and monotony and seek knowledge far from here. I feel caged in a so-called free world. I feel so very sheltered from both the most terrible and the most wonderful happenings that this planet has to offer.
Conversely, I seek pain. I find comfort in the dark depths of disdain, heartache and self-hatred. As I attempt to overcome the eating disorder I have so viciously struggled with over the past eight years I find myself wanting so desperately to regress. I ache to feel the familiar shooting pains in my gut and severe nausea caused only by the deprivation of food for days upon days. I crave that pain.
This doesn’t make sense, though. I have sought happiness for so long, yet have also struggled so long that it feels unnatural to lack a struggle. I have never been one much for the negative attention associated with eating disorders, so I have kept to myself. Masochistic tendencies, perhaps, are the culprit of these feelings. I miss the pain and the struggle of living each day as one misses the close friendship of one who had betrayed them — the comfort of their presence is nearly evenly matched with your knowledge of their ability to hurt.
Sometimes, we are clever enough to recognize that these types of relationships are poison, and we break free.
Sometimes, we allow them in once more
and allow them
to consume us.
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