Sorry, Mom!

I'm such an asshole. Making your mom cry over the phone the day before your birthday really makes you feel good about life. I'm really really sorry I'm such a fuck up. Seriously. I'm really sorry I don't make sense right now, and that I will probably continue not to make sense for quite some time. I'm sorry I can't eat without spending time with the porcelain god. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about it until now. I'm so sorry that you're sad/angry/scared. You should know that telling you was not easy, and in effect a form of sabotage against my coping strategy, so at least you can be proud of that...?

Everything is too big, too wide, too expansive, and so is my mind. I can't concentrate or hear anything over the cacophony in my head or the incredibly loud kind of quiet that floods my ears lately. There are too many contradictions right now. I need/I do not need; I'm ready to do the work/I'm scared shitless at what could come of that; I need to be around someone when I eat so I refrain from being a dumb-ass/I don't want to eat around someone so that I CAN be a dumb-ass. I can't believe I'm back here again - it is utterly unoriginal...but I don't know how else to cope.