I am beginning to see that all is not well when I look in the mirror and there have been a few times when it has scared me a little. I don’t look that great. My eyes are bruised and my skin looks like the colour of ash. I break out in spots daily and my hair has become dry. There have even been moments when I have seen my reflection and thought that I looked like someone who has been using drugs for the last 10 years. I can see that I am not well. I can see it but yet I’m not doing anything solid about it. I’m talking the talk and acknowledging the realisations but when it comes down to action there is still something missing. Again I am asking myself what will it take for me to wake up? Back in treatment? Losing my newly built life? Dying? All of those options may seem quite dramatic but the shitty thing is that they are always going to be a possible reality as long as Anorexia keeps its grip on me. I am trying to figure out what it is that actually frightens me the most about eating and gaining weight, what do those things mean that would make me risk losing everything in order to prevent them from happening?
There is an answer I’m sure somewhere but right now I can’t seem to find it. At this point though I don’t think it matters as the importance has to be taken back to the basics of getting my weight back up. I have till the end of September to make a target weight that I have not been in a good few years and as that deadline gets nearer I realise that in order to meet it then I am going to have to push myself harder than I have ever done before. I have to go beyond all my previous efforts and pull out something that may leave me terribly uncomfortable. It is not a challenge I am looking forward to but it’s one that I can no longer delay. I am wasting my life to this and everyday that I engage with the Eating Disorder I diminish myself even further. I reinforce this idea that I am not good enough and that I’m not worthy. I disrespect myself so much that I have begun to feel ashamed. It’s as though I have become two people. One that houses the eating disorder and knows that they are irrelevant and as a response does everything to strengthen the hate inside. Then there is the other side. The human side. It is this one that is begging me to show myself a little compassion, that wants me to treat myself kinder because despite everything I am person and as a person I matter. This fight needs to be over.
I need to stop worrying my family because I am. Tonight I walked in the living room and it went quiet. My mother and sister sat on the sofa, looking at me. It was clear that they had been talking but I wasn’t prepared for what they said. Although I said I knew that I wasn’t looking so well, somehow I don’t expect other people to see it. My sister asked me not to get angry with her but she needed to say that things are not good. I am losing too much weight and if I carry on then my first year of uni would have been for nothing. She told me that I am beginning to look like I did pre-treatment and she told me quite simply that I needed to sort it out. Strangely I agreed with her. How could I get angry? Seeing what I have done in the mirror lately, getting weighed the other day…the evidence is kind of stacking up against me being able to say that it’s all fine and not an issue. It is an issue.
I need to stop.
I need to stop for my family, for my education, for my friends, for my colleagues, for my work…but far more importantly I need to stop for myself.
I will stop. This is just getting ridiculous now.