underwater (TK, august 29th, inspired by my best friend)

(the metaphor is that being in recovery is like holding your breath underwater, and ED is the air)

underwater. i feel like i'm holding my breath , begging to come up for air, trapped in a fat suit, unable to unzip it no matter how hard i try. i'm drowning. i want to come up for air so badly. i want to say i'll go home and lose a few pounds, somehow find a way to function with my disease. however, i know that won't happen. i need to come up for air, i can only hold my breath for a little bit longer. i know what coming up will lead to, and it won't be functional at all: IV's, feeding tubes, emergency rooms, attempting to run away, throwing up in bottles and hoarding them in my closet, stealing money and pills, crying in the back of an ambulance, passing out on the bathroom floor at 3 AM, sleepless nights spent in terror, bitter cold, falling at school, not being strong enough to walk up a flight of stairs, catheters, lost relationships, paper gowns, goal weights, supplements and gatorade, toilets that flush with keys, nightsweats, and ultimately, death. but i need the air so badly. i'll go back under when i get one more breath. i plead with myself in my mind just to come up for a few seconds, my lungs feel like they might explode. if i come up, i know i will never go back under. i know i can't live with one foot in this world and one in another. i want to live in the recovery world, but i don't think i can hold my breath much longer. i want to escape the fat suit and just come up for air, but i remember what that leads to- death. however, i feel like if i don't come up soon i will drown. i'm damned if i do, damned if i don't. but right now i'm still alive so i have to make a choice- do i breathe or do i drown?