So tonight I was supposed to be going out. But instead I opted for a cosy night in in front of the fire with the other half. This may not seem like a big deal. Or worth blogging about. BUT…we went to shop to get snacks and got a basket full of what can be described as junk food. Yep. You read correctly. A girl with anorexia bought a basket full of junk food. And what’s more. I don’t feel bad. I got exactly what I wanted. What I fancied. I didn’t once look at calories. I just chucked it all in. And I’m enjoying it. I can’t remember the last time I did this. And it feels good. It feels normal. Feels right.
This seems to be the one place I can say exactly what’s going on and not get judged or cause an argument or upset anyone. So I thought I get out what’s going on.
I’ve just spent the last 15 minutes picking out fluff from my jumper that had stuck and dried to the cuts I made on my stomach last night. They all started oozing and stuck to my top. I often think about giving myself liposuction. Just cutting off my whole stomach. I hate how wobbly and big it’s got. It over hangs all my jeans and tights. It’s disgusting. I’ve ordered three W new dresses online and I’m worried that there all going to look awful. There all figure hugging and I don’t have the figure anymore to wear figure hugging clothes. I’m so ashamed of my figure. It’s awful. It’s ugly. It’s hideous. I’ve really let myself go.
Today I skipped lunch at work but then I got hungry so I ate a slice of cake that couldn’t be sold as it had got squashed. So I ate it. Right fatty. I need to restrict. I need to loose Weight. But I just can’t seem to. I have no self control.
And on top of all of this I’m signed off work sick but I’m going im. I have family issues too and now someone very close to me is annoyed that I said I jealous of people still in hospital.
I can’t seem to do anything right so I may as just well stop and give up.
I spend my life looking through old photos. Looking at photos I took of myself when I was my littlest. I miss it. I miss seeing my bones. I miss people staring at me. I miss being in hospital. I see people I know or follow on social media who are still in hospital. And I’m jealous of them. Hospital was safe. So comfortable. Your surrounded by people who completely understand you and who you can talk to. Your form friendships. Your on a set meal plan and you dont waiver from it. So there’s no binging no over eating. Your in a bubble. A safe place. Floating by. I really do miss it. I had more friends when I was in hospital. I was gaining weight but not uncomfortably and if I did have a wobble I had friends and staff to talk and cry to. I miss the stares I get from being so ill. I miss it all. Now I’m just fat. Ugly. And wobble a lot.
Yep. That’s me. My thighs wobble so much. Bounce up and down. Flap about. It’s awful. I hate my thighs and my stomach. If I could just cut of my stomach and trim down my thighs I’d be ok. Ish. I hate my body. So much. But right now I love food. And I’m enjoying eating. If I’m hungry I eat. If I see something I fancy I eat it. If I’m in the shop and want a chocolate bar I’m not afraid to buy it anymore. Same goes to a slice of cake. I don’t calorie count anymore. I eat what I fancy. When I fancy. I can go out for meals. I can order a takeaway. I’m enjoying all of this. But I hate my body so much. I can’t bear to look at it. It just wobbles so much. I can’t wear tight clothes anymore. I have to wear baggy one. Loose fitting ones. I just wish o could just eat and like my body. But I can’t.
I’m fat. I’m fat. I’m fat. There’s no other word for it. I’m fat. I’m having problems with being and feeling sick. I know what it is. I had an endoscopy aonil fully aware what’s going on. But it’s happening more and more. And the thing is. It still doesn’t stop me eating. I still eat. Then feel sick. Other people wouldn’t bother to eat if they know it’s going to law them be or feel sick. But not me. I continue to eat. I’m so bloody fat. I’m doing breakfast lunch and dinner and trying not to nibble Inbetween but with my work it’s so hard. If a cake breaks or I need to test something. I eat it. I’m considering quitting just so I’m not surrounded by food all day and free lunch. I’m sick of how I look but can’t seem to do anything about it. I’m so stressed with work that when I get home I can’t switch off. I’m meant to be running but I’m exhausted 100% of the one and have no motivation. So instead I’m Just getting fat
So I had my first wash in a week today. I just can’t bear to get naked and wash. I hate my body that much I can’t bear to see it. Let alone feel it. I knew it was a bad idea. I was in an awful mood. And shouldn’t have. But I did. And I cut. I reached for the razor and cut. I cut my thought. My fat wobbly thighs. Till I saw blood. Till I felt the sting. I then reached for my stomach. Grabbed a roll and cut it. Punished myself for being fat. For getting a roll. Or two. So I cut it. I had to. I needed to. I’m now in bed. My thighs stinging. But it feels right. It’s the punishment I deserved.
So that’s it. I have in and bought a new pair of jeans that actually fit. BUT there a bigger size. Yep. I’ve gone up a size. I size I’ve never been before. I really am the biggest I’ve ever been. And the ugliest. I keep looking at photos of when I was ill and I wish I looked like that. I miss looking like that. Now a days I’m curvy wobbly and fat. I miss the days I could see my bones. See my stomach cave on. I miss it all. I looked so much better then than I do now. I just look so ugly now. I hate my body. Every part of it.
Trying to stick the phrase “YOLO” and be positive and not worry about what I’m eating and what size I am. But it’s so hard. Today I had lunch at work to see if that would stop the nibbling I do brought the day and when I get home. But it didn’t. I still nibbled and then proceeded to eat a whole bag of chocolates. This makes me feel so fat. So ugly. So greedy. So ashamed. I caught my naked stomach in the mirror earlier when I was getting changed and I saw the rolls over the top of my jeans. I saw the indentation my jeans had made from being to tight. I’m trying to embrace it and learn to love my curves. But right now all I see is fat. Rolls. And fat. It looks ugly. I don’t look thin any more. Let alone slim. I look podgy and wobbly instead. I’m really trying to ignore the thoughts and just eat what I want when I want. And go with the flow. So what if I go up another dress size. So what if I do. But that freaks me out. I’ve put on so much weight In these last two months. I’ve never weighed or looked like this before. I hate myself so much. I miss the skinny me. The slim me. The stomach that caved in. The bones I could feel. I find myself missing it. But there’s nothing I can do I don’t have the willpower to restrict any more. I’m so hungry I just eat and eat. I’ve gone from This to this:
I’m fat. So fat. So very fat. I’m ugly. So ugly. So very ugly. I’d be better off dead.
I still haven’t washed. It’s past a week now. I hate my body that much. I got stressed earlier which let to a binge. Today I was meant to restrict but instead I binged. Next week I have a trial model shoot so I’m meant to be dieting all this week. This rate I’ll turn up. They’ll take one look at me and turn me away. I’m not fat to be a model. To ugly to be a model. I don’t know why I even tried. Why I even entered. Who am I kidding!
Fuck this. Fuck this awful day. Fuck it all.