Eating Disorder Recovery · Uncategorized

Anger outloud.

Rage seems to be seeping out of my bones this evening against this damn disorder and it seems to have come from nowhere…or nowhere new. How dare this thing have the right to come in to my life or other another persons life with the sole intention to destroy it? How bloody dare it systematically shut me down, silence me, force me into some airless box and refuse to let me out? I am tired, and I’m frustrated. I’m tired of trying to force myself not to care what the numbers on the scales say but yet let them alter my sense of self into a self that is not even recognisable. I don’t want to let my worth be defined as something as insignificant as that. God! I just want to come home and not get on the scale and watch it tell me how much of a failure I am, how much I should hate myself for the rest of the night. It shouldn’t matter, and I am constantly telling myself this, but as I am watching those ugly digital numbers continue to go up and up and up, there is a chunk of me screaming and pleading and willing to sell my soul to the devil himself if it just stops. Every time the experience reduces me and yet everyday I continue to put myself through it again. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, not sure what I even want to see, and I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to drag myself away, maybe it’s the self-inflicted pain that I need to ease the guilt of gaining.

Is that ridiculous? Does it even make sense?

I hate this and I can’t let anyone see that. I’m supposed to be recovering, and I’m supposed to be happy that my life is beginning to look life a life rather than a uncontained disaster zone. I’m supposed to be moving on and want more and not let this be hurting me like it is. I don’t know how to tell people that, there is an assumption I think that when your weight starts to go up things are doing better, and yet they’re not. I feel like a fake and it’s like the eating disorder is just there, waiting for when we don’t have to do this anymore, waiting to get back under my skin and stay there. Shit! That’s why I’m not letting go…because I’m waiting for it to come back, as though it was something I just had to put away for a little while rather than walk away from completely. My brain hurts and I just don’t know what to do anymore.


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