Ok so here goes trying to explain it all. Well the food side of things. It’s like I’m constantly at war with myself. So I’ve lost loads of weight in 6 months. I look at pictures now and I’m disgusted with how I look. I look awful, I look ill. You can tell I’ve lost weight. And that there is the problem. So I look at these pics and see I’ve lost weight and see how Ill I look but I look at them and get a sense of achievement too. I’ve acheived something, I’ve lost weight. I’m almost proud. Well I am. I want people to comment and say I’ve lost weight. I want people to notice it. But then that’s crazy as I look awful. I’m ashamed of them I look so hideous but weirdly proud too. And I want to carry on achieving. If ive achieved that in 6 months what can I achieve in another 6 months. I want to beat myself. I want to carry on.
It’s like when people ask if I want to get better. Yes. Yes I do that answer is simple. I do. It’s a stupid question to ask. Of course I want to get better. I don’t want to live like this. In a prison. In hell. I want to eat normally I want to go out for dinner I don’t want to be controlled and defined by this. But at the same time. I don’t want to put weight on. Im Petrified of that. Petrified of gaining weight. Its like it’s a challenge. It’s like I’ll feel I’ll have failed if I gain weight. But I need to. And I want to get better. I do. I know it sounds like I don’t but I do. I really do. It’s horrible. Every thought is food. I don’t enjoy going out for dinner. I’n hungry all the time. My body is screwed. I’m ugly. I’m hideous. I’m a failure.
This illness is horrible. It’s a constant war. A constant battle.