No one is going to believe this but, I’ve had the devil inside of me. And much like the victims of clichéd horror movies, despite my best attempts at an exorcism, it remains within me. It has showed me the evil side of life, taken me to a h*ll within myself and slowly tortured me from the inside out.
No I'm not talking about some little red daemon dancing on my shoulders, but rather the lesser known evil of Anorexia Nervosa. This monster, this devil's accomplice, was inside of me from the moment my casual glances in the mirror transformed into ruthless aesthetic examinations.
Whispering in my ear tales of past obesity and rejection, I was lulled into a state of utter despair. Despair, that those that are all too familiar with it will understand, drove me to do things I would never have otherwise considered. Dancing to the tune of Anorexia's demonic music, I grew devil horns of my own and dragged those I loved most to the hellhole an eating disorder creates.
The fiery pits of my anger and paranoia knew no bounds when it came to food, while exercise became a form of torture I both loved and loathed. Often falling to the ground bombarded by the devilish whispers of my illness, I’d find the energy to do one more shaky push-up or back breaking sit-up. It was here and only here that I could just spot the lights of heaven, the possible light at the end of my barren, satanic tunnel. With each push up, sit-up and meal skipped, my Anorexia tantalised me with moments of divine hopefulness. Hope for a point in time where I may one day look in the mirror and not turn away in disgusted disappointment.
But these moments of heavenly bliss were short lived and with each step I thought I was taking closer to these pearly gates, the further away I was actually getting. With eyes firmly transfixed on my goal for happiness, I failed to realise I was being dragged in the opposite direction to a despondent desert of perpetual futility.
A multitude of bumps, burns and bruises later however, I’ve been able to escape the pits of my personal h*ll. With the help of angelic figures hovering around me, I summoned the strength to escape the prison Anorexia had designated for me.
As of now in a profound state of limbo where I'm grateful to be beyond h*ll's gates but disheartened to realise I will never reach heavens. A failure the devil's accomplice is quick to remind me of with the occasional teasing whisper.
At the end of the day though, who needs heaven when you’re simply lucky to be alive?