When will I stop counting calories? When will I stop feeling fat?When will I stop measuring myself by my thighs and the gap I no longer have? When will my day not be controlled by food? When? When will I stop feeling lonely? When will I move on? When will I no longer feel a failure? When will I have something to smile about?When will I stop wishing I was dead? When will I stop taking laxatives?
When will all of this stop?
Im a fat b***h. I’m a fat failure. That’s what I am. A fat ugly horrible person. That’s me. And I hate it. I hate the person I am. I hate my life. I hate everything about me. The way I was in a relationship. The fact I’m alone. The the way I am the person Ive become. I wish it would be over. I bought tablets the other day as I had a headache but had to give the rest over otherwise I’d have taken them all and take yet another overdose. It doesn’t scare me. I don’t think it ever well. I’m So desperate for my life to be over. Or at least change. This weekend has been full of Unknown calories and it terrifies me. I’m dreading weigh in tomorrow. Dreading see the number on the scales. Pure dread. It will effect t my day so much of I’ve gained. And I know I have. I’m so desperate to lose weight. So desperate to see my ribs. For my stomach to cave in. Not stick out. To see a thigh gap instead of see them touch. To see my cheekbones instead of have a rounded face. I’m desperate to go back to how I was.
I sit here and wrote this and feel so alone. I know Facebook glorifies everything but I’m sick of people younger than me having the time of there lives. Having babies. Getting engaged going out partying. Whilst I’m stuck in hospital. My life on hold. And what’s worse is even when I’m out of hospital. I’m not going to be living. As anorexia will still be there and have hold of me. I’ll be restricting like mad. I’ll still be alone. I’ll still be the failure I am. I still won’t have a life.
The unknown. It’s horrible. I’d rather know. Tonight I’m home visiting family and we’re going out for dinner. Going out for dinner where the calories aren’t on the menu. You can’t even really guess. It’s weird. I’m ok drinking alcohol which is calories. But food. Now that’s totally different. Yesterday I barely ate and today I skipped breakfast in preparation for dinner. I hate how my life really does revolve around food. I also ate lunch out today. I ate it. Then had to go back to the counter just to see how many calories were in it. I have to know number. I need to know them. I need to know I’m under the amount I should have. I’ve never been this bad. But it’s awful now. The unknown is far too scary. It’s terrifying. I should be looking forward to going out with mr family. But instead it’s shear dread. I’m anxious. I’m sweating. I’m
Agitated. Already planning if they have a salad. Planning to have a side Instead of a main. But I know o won’t be able to get away with that. My mum was ill so I was hoping this would mean dinner would be cancelled but it’s not. It’s still on. And where nearly there. Wish me luck guys
So I went home this weekend. To my parents and staff at the hospital everything went fine but in reality it didn’t.
I realised I couldn’t move back home. There too many triggers. To many memories that are painful. Too easy to fall back into the same routine. Too easy to restrict. I skipped a total of 4 1/2 snacks one main dessert one light dessert and one lunch. And swapped main meals to light meals. I skipped nearly a total of 2000 kcal this weekend (Friday to Sunday) and that’s with waking a fair amount too. This should make me realise I’m not better but this makes me happy. I’m happy I managed to skip meals. I also took laxatives yesterday. It’s all too easy being back there. Right now though I’m pleased I did all of that. And how wrong is that. It’s not going to get me any nearer to leaving here. It’s just going to prolong it. But I guess when your in my situation and you have no life to go back to it doesn’t matter. My mentality (while sitting on the train going back to hospital) is to tell them if all went well and continue to eat my way out of here leave and diet. I’ve never liked my body and I’ve never been fully happy but before I came I’m here I could tolerate my body more and put up with how it looked whereas now I’m
Still unhappy and hate my body even more. So what’s the point in all of this.
It’s my life. You only live once so why can’t I live it the way I want.
I’m very depressed today. Im
Angry at the hospital over my cpa on Friday. I’m angry I have to go back. Im lonely. (Yes I have family) but I feel so alone so isolated. So lost.
I know I shouldn’t feel happy that I’ve skipped so much of my meal plan but the fact is I do. I can’t help that. I can’t help I still get a buzz when I successfully skip something. I can’t help it. It makes me feel worthy. It makes me feel like I’ve achieved something. It makes me feel good. And yes that may be wrong and I shouldn’t feel that way but I can’t help that I do. I can’t help what Anna is telling me. I know I’ve done enough not to loose weight so staff won’t know. I know I’ve done enough to fake a successful trip home as keep staff thinking I’m ok. I know they won’t realise. Anna makes me a great lier and pretender. It’s like a smile. Can hide a thousand feelings. Ana can hide a million things too and can make you get away with what you want when you want. You just have to be clever.
I’m well and truly under anas thumb the moment I leave that hospital even if for a day. She’s so strong. I think it’s because she lies dormant waiting for the opportunity then hits me like a brick when she can. And she does. I’m not ready to give up ana. I wish I was I wish I could but the truth is I can’t. She makes me feel good about myself. She makes me feel I have a purpose. She gives me a reason to be alive. She gives me meaning. I know it’s wrong. I know that’s so wrong. And I know people will read this and think how I can be that wrong in the head to feel that wY and not understand but it’s the truth. As much as ana is a bitch I’m well and truly still tied to her. I just cover her over with a bubble when I’m in hospital. As the moment I step outside of those four walls it’s pops and she’s there. She’s back. She’s alive.
I want a cuddle. I need a cuddle. I want an alcoholic drink. I need an alcoholic drink. I want my duvet. I need my duvet. I want this to end. I need this to end.
I had a great day with my parents. Lunch out. Shopping. Picnic. Scrabble. And it was great. So nice to spend all day with them. They helped me to ignore all the shit going on around me and in my head and made me genuinely smile.
Now back to reality and all the thoughts are back! I’ve had to untuck my top so it’s baggy and sat and listed everything I’ve eaten and counted the steps I’ve walked. And I’ve come down like a led ballon. I’m probably as heavy as bloody led ballon too
So my biggest struggle these past 2-3 days has been my food! I’m struggling with it loads and loads lately it just getting worse and worse and I can’t see a way out of it.
I’ve already lost loads of weight and have a (shhhhhh, it’s a bit a taboo subject) laxative problem. But it’s just taken over!
The other day I was so proud that I went 24 hours, well 23 hours without eating. And now I can do that and know I’m capable of that I try even more to eat less. Breakfast used to be an apple. Now it’s nothing. Lunch used to me salad and cereal bar. Now it’s salad (carrot and tomatoes) dinner used to be beans or soup. Now I try to skip dinner too.
But the thing is I feel so fat! Like the fattest I have ever been. I look at my stomach and I’m repulsed. It horrible. Yet I’m eating barely nothing. Maybe it’s the occasional sweet I have for energy or something.
And well I can’t remember the last time I didn’t take a little pill before bed time. But now my body has got so used to them they don’t work and I don’t go to the toilet (sorry for toilet talk) but then I get so stressed I don’t go, then I don’t eat as I haven’t been etc etc.
How can I beat this or even try to get over it. I don’t know how and it’s just getting worse!
Many people get the Monday blues, my ‘Monday blues’ aren’t just Monday ones and there not just the blues
Sometimes, well most times I wish I could see in to the future, I wish crystal balls existed. Just to see if all this is actually worth it, though right now I don’t actually know what would make it ‘worth it’
I’ve had this life, this constant battle for nearly 10 years now. I always get over it then it comes back, worse each time. I feel like just giving up, what’s the point if it just comes back. This has become me and I hate that this now defines me, it’s part of me but a very unwelcome part of me.
I think I’ve become so used to it being a part of me I’m forgetting who I am. I’m massively lost, so many people keep telling me I’m just a little lost, but how do I find my way back. If I was lost on a walk I’d end up going round in circles and crying which is exactly what I’n doing. I’d find someone to ask and they would be able to lint me in the right direction but no one can point me in the right direction.
Everyone that suffers this terrible battle suffers differently and although they’ll understand to an extent they can never fully put themselves in your postion and ultimately it’s me that has to get myself out of this. But how can I when I’m lost!
I have so many questions so many thoughts so many battles going on I don’t know where to begin. Then there’s the ‘eating disorder’ but I’ll get to that another day!
If someone could throw me a time machine you would be my hero!!
Ok, so here goes, im not really sure what I’m doing but I know i need to write, it gets everything out for that short moment I’m writing it …….
I tried to remain positive and motivated but as quick as I think about it it just evaporates and I’m
Back to feeling shit with no motivation what so ever.
I can’t really even get my words out to write this stupid entry as my mind is just spinning with so many things. Food stuff, feeling fat, being and feeling alone, the whole work stuff not being appreaciated, working my arse of and making zero progress saving. And death.
Death is the biggest most constant thought at the moment. Most people are scared of death. I’m
Not. This would all disappear if I was to die. I would feel
Nothing. And that’s what I want. I feel so much at the moment. Too much. The only part about death that scares me is the impact my death would have on my family. And that is the single sole reason I’m still here.
I think daily about how to die. I know I won’t jump in front of a train or jump in don’t of a car. I couldnt end my life with someone else involved in it. I’d jump from a building, I just need to find one high enough, that and the guts. I think about over dosing but it’s the jumping I think about daily. I’m incapable of driving over a bridge or seeing a tall crane or building without thinking about jumping. I just feel this is the only way, It would end the pain I feel I wouldn’t be lost anymore. And I wouldn’t be alone as you don’t feel anything so I wouldn’t be able to feel alone. Or feel anything.
But the thing is I’m that much a failure. And weak and pathetic that I can’t even bring myself to do the one thing I want. Yet again I put other people first. I always will.
I’m the mug the sufferer the loner the one who always tries to please people the one who is just stuck, massively lost and alone but Im the one that will always be here and I’ll probably be the unlucky one who lives to be 120 knowing my luck.