Eating Disorder Recovery · Uncategorized

I don’t know how I am

I can’t quite believe that I’ve left it this long between posts. Things have been in some ways moving quicker since my discharge although I don’t know how much of that is my need to stay busy and making up things for myself to do and how much of it is actually necessary. It feels like I have missed out on so much and now I have to cram it all in as soon as possible. Logically I know that there isn’t a rush but it feels like I’ve wasted too much time to wait around anymore. I have a lot of appointments during the week (although they haven’t started really yet) and I suppose that’s a good thing. There are people there for me should things fall apart so that hopefully things don’t get as bad as they were again. I’m not sure I could do another round of losing weight and then going through the process of re-feeding. This time hurt too much. It broke something in me that I didn’t think was left to break.

People keep asking me how I am though and too often I am trying to find words for something that I can’t explain. I have this emptiness inside of me which no matter what I do, it doesn’t seem to ease. I want to be ok but most of the time I’m not. Part of me I think is still waiting for the day that all this stop, living in general stops being a fight. I am doubtful of whether that day will ever come and when I think like that it all feels so hopeless. Don’t get me wrong I am not spending my days hiding in tears or willing my body to give up. In a way it’s like I’m just here…potentially waiting for something.

Since I left food has stayed a struggle. In the first few days things were starting to slip left, right and centre and I panicked. It had not been that long and already I was fucking up. Had I not felt the old familiar sensations of an inadequate diet kicking in then I probably would have carried on, convincing myself that what I was doing was acceptable. It isn’t. I am trying to put back in things that should never have gone but every time it feels like I’m doing something wrong. How can fulfilling someone’s basic needs for survival feel like a mistake and illicit so much guilt? It doesn’t help that my body image is absolutely horrendous. I’m still avoiding the mirror and every time I glance at it by accident, a wave sweeps through me screaming that I need to lessen myself again. When will I stop trying to find answers there? Yesterday was the first day in months, certainly since treatment that I had some photos taken of me. They were part of a press release for a project I have been working on and when they went up online they made me cry. I look like an elephant and I don’t know what to do with that feeling. If I change it then I’m getting stuck in the same cycle all over again, even though I know it’s not going to give me a different outcome. Yet learning how to live with the way my body is seems unachievable. I want to not care so badly.

I am so tired of my brain.

I hope your day is good to you.


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