When I get to the end of the day and come to blogging, or reading, or lying in bed thinking, I always kinda summarise the day… you know, has it been good or sad or terrible etc.
Today was ok. This has been determined by how organised and controlled food stuff was and how negtaively I felt about my body. These days, other worries are solely expressed through my ed feelings or behaviours, which is why that is all my summary entailed. I suppose it is sad that my whole life gets whittled down to how I felt about eating and whether or not I felt fat. 😦
I don’t feel sorry for myself as such, but I don’t feel like things are going too great for me either. I’m trying to remind myself that having this illness isn’t my fault, but that’s quite difficult when it feels like it most definitely is! It’s ME that pushes people away, it’s ME that snaps and feels awkward with my family, it’s ME that persists in being obsessive and it’s ME who is up right now in order to exercise.
So yeh..trying to be positive, but “ok” was the best I could do.
I look, obsess, analyse at it all the time, yet my perception of myself is constantly questioned by those around me. I feel my bones, I take every measurement I can, I perpetually compare myself to people, and so it is hard to believe that the view of my body I have created in my mind is wrong….
I have a notebook which I write in multiple times a day, in order to track food, body measurements and exercise etc.. it is my obsession. This evening I have got a new notebook and I have started writing in it (old one was full) which is what has got me looking back and thinking about how my body has changed.
Emotion-wise, today has been pretty rough. I was sat with my family in the pub for lunch. Nobody was making me eat, but my incredible hunger was fighting with my ed. I wanted to eat, but at the same time I wanted to stay empty. The hunger made me unable to think properly and the social eating scenario made me anxious before I even thought about maybe trying to eat something. I ran out and had a panic attack, then walked down the road with tears streaming down my face. I felt angry for not fighting the ed and eating- like I had let myself down, and I also felt hugely upset that my ed controls me so much. A lot of the time I’m able to imagine that I am in control of it, as I avoid so many situations which challenge its “rules.” It’s one thing when it leaves me feeling a state, but today was worse because my parents and siblings just had to sit there with me unable to form a sentence before I ran out. I just feel stupid I guess.
I don’t want a casual lunch with my family to be an impossible task; however I don’t want to confront the issues that make it one until I have justified it by losing more weight. A few months ago I was proud of myself for being able to understand and articulate my problems, but I don’t seem to be able to go any further than it. If I’m not doing anything positive with that knowledge then what the hell is the point?
I really couldn’t say whether or not I want to get better. Ambivalent isn’t even the word- as I know every ed sufferer feels that at times- I am just so utterly lost.
My obsession over food makes me snap. It is never anybody else’s wrong doing; they are just unfortunate to be getting in the way of me eating, cooking etc.
Today I had to wait 2 hours for people to go out of the kitchen so I could get one bowl of cereal. It’s ridiculous, but I spent that whole waiting time being so impatient and snappy with everyone who spoke to me, because all I could think about was the cereal. Of course I haven’t eaten an amount to fill me up, cos I don’t like to be full…
That was the advice I got given today, and I guess it is right.
My problem is that while I am always getting better at being articulate and open about my issues, the disorder is still there. I am still fixated on food and weight control as a way of controlling my body and my life in general. I am always fearful of others thinking I have gained weight when I go home/ come back for a new term, and so lose more to try to prevent people from commenting. A big part of me wants to be ill forever, and there are very few moments when I am 100% determined to be recovered. I am fighting a constant battle against myself, in a place where most people don’t have a clue anything is going on.
Today I was more tired, more cold & more stuck in my own head than usual (I’ve eaten 1200 calories less than what I need to maintain, which the disorder bit of my brain is over the moon about….) and so I couldn’t stop worrying when I thought someone had seen me eat something that I’d never tell anybody I’d eaten usually.
Part of me feels so silly for speaking to them and explaining that I was so guilty that I spat it out anyway, but saying the words “I can’t eat things like that because I’m afraid of becoming fatter or being perceived as greedy” made me feel like I’ve reminded them that I am empty and clean of horrible food that could ruin all of my control. I obviously realise that they don’t think like me and therefore don’t care, but I do.
Since moving here, I have had 4 bulimic “incidents” during which I have binged and purged, but those 4 days aside, I have been my usual anorexia obsessive control freak about food. I know that nobody here will ever fully understand what it is like to have an eating problem, but sometimes I just have to say the crazy things in my head, just so they stop whirring around my brain for a while. It can be hard,no, it IS hard. Even when I’m writing on here, where nobody even knows me personally, I am keeping secrets. That’s what ED’s do best: hide.
I feel so alone- partly because I actually am right now! But seriously, nobody ever hears me say the WHOLE truth. My housemates know I have an eating disorder, but they don’t understand what that entails. and sitting in my room crying because was unable to make myself sick isn’t exactly something I want to explain.
I just hate that my whole life is a limited bubble of activities, dictated by how I’m feeling about food and my body at a particular moment in time. I am exhausted, stressed and still have to make myself exercise. I don’t care about myself right now and I would be a burden to someone if I were to call someone to talk. Why do I do this to myself?
I often long for my 5 housemates go to out, so that I don’t have to see anyone and worry they think I’m fat. “If they go out, you can cook alone, eat alone, everything will be perfect” is what the voice tells me…
This past weeks has blown that theory out the water. As I’m so rarely alone, my habitual state is to be planning and calculating when I can take food from the cupboard/ cook/ eat and not be seen, so being alone somehow just makes me binge (or what feels like bingeing as it has reached around double my normal amount) Even if my binge amount would be considered normal to others i FEEL out of control during these episodes.. 😦
In a way it makes sense: I subconsciously don’t know when I will be able to eat without the rushing and on edge feeling of there being 5 others in the house, so there’s probably some biological trigger for my body to store food while it can. What doesn’t help is that I am stressed anyway, so my reaction to eating is to immediately try to throw up & when that fails exercise obsessively and take laxatives. I am so frustrated that living with 5 others makes my relationship with food more difficult AND that when they are gone food stuff is almost worst.
When we are all in the house I want them to be gone, but now they have gone and this has happened, I am afraid of being alone in the house. So what if a short period of eating more can’t scientifically change how fat you look? Cos it feels shit anyway. I feel like a child… confused and scared, but nobody can protect me from myself. I am the one who has these thoughts and reacts to them, but I feel powerless to stop them. I wish somebody else could stop everything for me.
Eating healthily became bulimia & now I’m back to planning meals, restriction and weight loss. I know my bulimia was a result of stopping counselling before being ready to go it alone, but you would have thought I would’ve learned that doing anything drastic on my own is a bad idea.
Several months later I am back where I began. Being constantly restrictive, having a very rare “binge”, punishing myself and depriving my mind, my body, my social life….
Why is it that as soon as I am stressed the food obsession gets even worse? Even when I feel like food couldn’t dominate me more, it somehow manages it! I’m cross that I can recognise how crappy this method of coping it is but do it anyway.