By Sian Ewers.
“There is no coming to consciousness without pain. People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own Soul. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” – Carl Jung
And everything hurts.
It aches. All of it.
Every cell, fiber and atom that makes up my being.
Mind, body and soul thrown into a bowl, mixed, stirred, and formed with hands and words.
I want it all.
I want the bones, the protruding sharp edges, want to feel them beneath my skin, no meat or flesh to cover.
I want the blur, the navy blur of a fuzzy mind that is starving, buzzing with success.
I want the sunken cheekbones; the ones that make my lips look bigger. The ones that make people tell me my eyes look googly.
I want googly eyes.
I want the falling of hair, the outcome, the prize – the proof that I’m winning.
I want my calves to shrink, the muscle to melt and my thighs to never for any reason touch.
I want the pride. The knowing. The pit of my stomach tightness from no food and triumph.
But everything hurts and the control, the power, is the only thing melting now.