The weight I am right now is just about a healthy weight, but lately I've been eating a bit too much junk food, and have just gone up by a few more pounds than I would like to be. Of course, the second I decide that I'll lose a few pounds, in a healthy way, my old habits begin creeping in, and suddenly I find myself teetering between full on relapse and just about holding it together. THIS is ridiculous isn't it? Lots of people lose weight in a totally healthy way for lots of different reasons, why do I feel like such a failure when I try and just stick to a diet plan?
This isn't really a post, I just really wanted to know if anybody had had a similar thing, and found a way of overcoming it without allowing the ED mindset to return? Diet plans? Calorie limitation? Anything like that?
Thank you!
Monday 27 February 2012
Saturday 25 February 2012
Control
I don’t even know what this word means anymore.
Once, it meant less than 200calories a day.
Once, it meant losing 5llbs in a week.
Once, it meant illness and pain and hatred.
Then, it meant realisation.
Then, it meant anorexia had taken it.
Then, it meant being lost in a spiral into this illness, becoming sicker and sicker.
Now, I don’t know how to gain control.
I’m so lost.
Rescue me?
Thursday 9 February 2012
Escape
***TRIGGER WARNING***
It's weird.
My hope, my interminable faith in humanity and in the people in my life, is fading.
I feel so trapped, but at the same time lost in the wilderness of my mind. It seems so impossible to explain; how every move I make feels constricted, and yet at the same time to feel as if I'm floating with no particular direction or path to follow.
I want to run away.
I want someone to recognise that the "I'm fine" "I'm just tired" "I'm not hungry" "I was just coughing, not being sick" bollocks that I dole out every fucking day is just that; a pile of bullshit. I don't think I am okay. I can't admit that, but I really am scared that this time everything won't be okay.
I want to escape, even if it's just for a while.
I want one of the people who claim to love me, who say they'll always be there, to scoop me up in their arms, and hold me tight, and tell me they love me.
I need someone to recognise how much I'm hurting because it's killing me, it really is.
This Friday was the date I'd planned to kill myself, after deciding if I was going to, I wanted to be level headed, to have thought it through, to make sure there was no chance of not dying. I won't go into details about method, but tomorrow was the date.
I realised this was a stupid idea, made plans to have my friend over. She ditched me. I asked my other mate to go to the movies with me. He can't because of "transport".
I need someone to want me enough to take me away for a few hours, to make me smile, to make me laugh.
This pain is too much and not enough.
I don't even know who I am anymore.
Truth is, if I don't find a way of escaping this awfulness in my mind, suicide will be my only escape.
I mustn't let that happen.
It's weird.
My hope, my interminable faith in humanity and in the people in my life, is fading.
I feel so trapped, but at the same time lost in the wilderness of my mind. It seems so impossible to explain; how every move I make feels constricted, and yet at the same time to feel as if I'm floating with no particular direction or path to follow.
I want to run away.
I want someone to recognise that the "I'm fine" "I'm just tired" "I'm not hungry" "I was just coughing, not being sick" bollocks that I dole out every fucking day is just that; a pile of bullshit. I don't think I am okay. I can't admit that, but I really am scared that this time everything won't be okay.
I want to escape, even if it's just for a while.
I want one of the people who claim to love me, who say they'll always be there, to scoop me up in their arms, and hold me tight, and tell me they love me.
I need someone to recognise how much I'm hurting because it's killing me, it really is.
This Friday was the date I'd planned to kill myself, after deciding if I was going to, I wanted to be level headed, to have thought it through, to make sure there was no chance of not dying. I won't go into details about method, but tomorrow was the date.
I realised this was a stupid idea, made plans to have my friend over. She ditched me. I asked my other mate to go to the movies with me. He can't because of "transport".
I need someone to want me enough to take me away for a few hours, to make me smile, to make me laugh.
This pain is too much and not enough.
I don't even know who I am anymore.
Truth is, if I don't find a way of escaping this awfulness in my mind, suicide will be my only escape.
I mustn't let that happen.
Sunday 5 February 2012
The Wake Up Call
When did you guys all SEE yourself for the first time?
I think it's so easy to allow anorexia to cloud your vision when you see yourself. I would look in the mirror and think I looked like a fatass, that my face looked chubby, that you could barely even see my bones. The inspiration from this post came from reading another blog, about a girl whose wake up call was unbelievable. Some of you may have seen the pro-Ana slogan "I want to be so light, I don't leave footprints in the snow"? This girl was walking in the snow when she suddenly realised she was barely leaving a mark.
This resonated with me in two ways.
Firstly, it shows that with anorexia, you think you really want something, but actually when the time comes, you realise it wasn't worth the sorrow and the heartache to get.
The second is the symbolism within this realisation. You're no longer leaving a mark on the world, you're becoming less of a person; you're becoming invisible. This image reflects the way in which anorexia takes away who you are, you don't have as much impact. You are barely even there anymore.
I saw another story of a girl who just looked in the mirror one day, and actually SAW herself. She suddenly saw the ribs, the bones sticking out horrendously, how ugly her skeletal body looked in the harsh light of reality. She realised she looked nothing more than a corpse; no femenine curves; gaunt pale face; bow legged;... unattractive. Anorexia is not beautiful.
My realisation could have come at a lot of times:
I was in the shower, and as i put conditioner in, I took my hand away from my head, and a huge clump of hair was left in my hands. I sobbed; my hair is the one thing I have ever liked myself. THis was very symbolic too, in that it highlighted anorexia was taking away everything that mattered to me.
The second time I could have had my wake up call was giving my friend a hug at school. "Holy shit, K, I can feel your ribs through your blazer, that's disgusting". My thought process? How stupid, she obviously can't, she's lying.
The third time could have been a picture taken of me, smiling. I thought I would look pretty in it; I'd got dolled up to go out, I felt reasonably okayish. I looked at the photo and I look drained, exhausted, gaunt, sunken eyes.. the lot.
The fourth time? Sat in my psychiatrist's office, he had just weighed me. "K, if you lose any more weight, you WILL be put in inpatient treatment. You now are severely underweight." ... He's lying?
The real realisation came when I was lying next to the guy I was with at the time. He had his hand resting on my stomach as we lay half asleep, and I suddenly became aware of how much my ribs and hips stuck out. I felt... embarassed. What I usually saw as achievements looked so ugly. I suddenly became aware of how much pain I was in, with my bony spine resting awkwardly on the floor. My bones protruding suddenly made me feel ashamed. I had no stomach there really. I tried pushing out my tummy to make myself look bigger, but I physically didn't have the energy.
This sudden feeling of embarassment threw my world into turmoil. What? Bones are how I judge if I'm doing okay?? Why do I suddenly wish I just had a regular non-concave stomach?
I hope you all receive a wake up call sometime soon.
I think it's so easy to allow anorexia to cloud your vision when you see yourself. I would look in the mirror and think I looked like a fatass, that my face looked chubby, that you could barely even see my bones. The inspiration from this post came from reading another blog, about a girl whose wake up call was unbelievable. Some of you may have seen the pro-Ana slogan "I want to be so light, I don't leave footprints in the snow"? This girl was walking in the snow when she suddenly realised she was barely leaving a mark.
This resonated with me in two ways.
Firstly, it shows that with anorexia, you think you really want something, but actually when the time comes, you realise it wasn't worth the sorrow and the heartache to get.
The second is the symbolism within this realisation. You're no longer leaving a mark on the world, you're becoming less of a person; you're becoming invisible. This image reflects the way in which anorexia takes away who you are, you don't have as much impact. You are barely even there anymore.
I saw another story of a girl who just looked in the mirror one day, and actually SAW herself. She suddenly saw the ribs, the bones sticking out horrendously, how ugly her skeletal body looked in the harsh light of reality. She realised she looked nothing more than a corpse; no femenine curves; gaunt pale face; bow legged;... unattractive. Anorexia is not beautiful.
My realisation could have come at a lot of times:
I was in the shower, and as i put conditioner in, I took my hand away from my head, and a huge clump of hair was left in my hands. I sobbed; my hair is the one thing I have ever liked myself. THis was very symbolic too, in that it highlighted anorexia was taking away everything that mattered to me.
The second time I could have had my wake up call was giving my friend a hug at school. "Holy shit, K, I can feel your ribs through your blazer, that's disgusting". My thought process? How stupid, she obviously can't, she's lying.
The third time could have been a picture taken of me, smiling. I thought I would look pretty in it; I'd got dolled up to go out, I felt reasonably okayish. I looked at the photo and I look drained, exhausted, gaunt, sunken eyes.. the lot.
The fourth time? Sat in my psychiatrist's office, he had just weighed me. "K, if you lose any more weight, you WILL be put in inpatient treatment. You now are severely underweight." ... He's lying?
The real realisation came when I was lying next to the guy I was with at the time. He had his hand resting on my stomach as we lay half asleep, and I suddenly became aware of how much my ribs and hips stuck out. I felt... embarassed. What I usually saw as achievements looked so ugly. I suddenly became aware of how much pain I was in, with my bony spine resting awkwardly on the floor. My bones protruding suddenly made me feel ashamed. I had no stomach there really. I tried pushing out my tummy to make myself look bigger, but I physically didn't have the energy.
This sudden feeling of embarassment threw my world into turmoil. What? Bones are how I judge if I'm doing okay?? Why do I suddenly wish I just had a regular non-concave stomach?
I hope you all receive a wake up call sometime soon.
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