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Intervention?

I’m currently placed with my legs tucked beneath the covers of my best friends bed, occasionally looking up at the mirror in front of me to catch a glimpse of my reflection. There are very few days that my emotional state shows outward but let me say that today I am the definition of the saying “Man, you look like shit.” My hair is sticking out from behind my ears in tufts of frizzy waves damp from the rain and there are bags starting to form beneath the corners of my eyes. Before I continue on to explain my day let me say something that might very well say it all: My parents are going to be told about my eating disorder.

When rolling over this morning to see what time it was I felt an aching that spread through my ribs down to my thighs. Stumbling aross the floor to the pile of clothes in front of my dresser I could feel myself swaying, dangerously close to tipping over. Every part of my body felt as if it were about to collapse in on itself, I was weak, I was tired. To make matters worse for myself I tried purging two times while I was in school today and due to the state of my health I slept during most of my classes. Last night I had been informed that one of my closest friends T. would be going to the guidance counselor I had just gone to the previous day in order to discuss how to handle the situation. I hadn’t realized that by this he meant he was going to tell her everything, but he did. He told her about my tumblr, about my best friend who shares the same E.D, about my trying to purge after leaving her office, about the voice, about every single personal detail.

So as he’s informing me of their conversation in the minutes before lunch rolls around I can feel the knot in my stomach twisting tighter with every step taken. “She’s going to call us both down, sixth period to speak about this.” Sixth period, 30 minutes away from that moment.  30 minutes until everything went spiraling downward into a state of turmoil.

I’ve become to tired to describe this very in depth and accuratly but the result is that I have until the end of the school year (one week) to tell my parents about my eating disorder. I am to attend a group in one of the nearby towns once a week for six weeks or be sent to rehab. I might be sent to a rehab anyway. However this is my guidance counselor speaking, we’ll see what my parents say. For now it is 1:27 AM and 24 hours after I started writing this, I need sleep.