I WISH I could just eat when I was hungry and stop when I was full and know instinctively what kind of food I was in the mood for at any given moment when hunger struck. I wish I trusted myself around food and I wish I trusted my body to just take care of what it needed to do.
I wish I could…
- Me: I need to gain some weight to be healthy and recover.
- Me: *eats a healthy amount of food*
- Me: *weighs self and has gained a small amount*
- Me: Oh my god nobody said this was going to happen. This is horrifying and terrible. I need to restrict.
- Me: *restricts next day and loses*
- Me: Wow I need to gain some weight to be healthy and recover.
- Me: *repeat cycle forever*
I just really want to stop caring. I want to stop thinking about what others think of me. About my possible achievements. About my possible failures. About future. About thinness than never ever brought me the real happiness, yet here I am lusting for it. Again. I’m just so tired of absolutely everything. I want to give up. Give up on life, on thoughts, but most importantly, on myself. I just want to shut down and live without thoughts, just doing things I have to do to look normal. To finish uni, continue to work. And then. And then I just want to finally run away. Alone. Will I run for real or just imaginary, I don’t know. I want to leave it all behind and become someone else, but I never will. I will always remain myself and that’s the worst part.
As much as I liked the idea of being frail and willowy and wrapped up in sweaters with jutting elbows and a delicate laugh and no appetite, there’s something incredibly satisfying about laughing too loud, and having hips, and being hot and sweaty in the summer, and appreciating air condition, and…
Skinny is not worth pushing my friends away.
Skinny is not worth putting my life on hold.
Skinny is not worth becoming empty and zombified.
Skinny is not worth having a shrunken brain.
Skinny is not worth hurting my family.
Skinny is not worth all the fucking money that inpatient treatment would cost.
Skinny is not worth being depressed and anxious.
Skinny is not worth my life.
With anorexia. You lose a massive amount of weight because you’re insecure. You don’t get any less insecure.
Then you gain it all back and then some and get MORE insecure.
Rinse and repeat. It just wears you down until you’re nothing.
Until something matters enough to make you change.