I pretended I was recovered, said I was recovered. But now, falling into a relapse and not knowing what to do I realise I never was recovered.
Even at my most recovered, even when I was happy. I still had those eating disordred thoughts. I still wouldnt touch pick and mix because god knows how many calories I’d be consuming. I still would have never dared to eat a pint of Ben and Jerrys. Thats atleast 1000 calories in icecream. Why would anyone who doesn’t want to get fat do that?
Or atleast thats how my eating disorder feels about things and always has done. I’ve now realised I’m never going to get out of this rut alone. And alone I am. I have one friend who I’m not really sure is a friend anymore. It’s a one sided relationship. If she needs me I’m always there, I always offer my support. But when I need her… she’s never there.
To add that to a family who seems like they couldn’t care less with the one exception of my mum when I’m “too skinny.” Why would I recover? What good reason is there for it?
I’m not worth happiness because no one likes me, if no one likes me I must be a horrible person. And to add to that if mum only cares when I’m too skinny I must stay too skinny and get even skinnier because I have a desperate craving for love. To just be cared for just for once. For someone to hold me close and tell me it’ll all be okay. For people to notice how much I’m hurting on the inside…
Whats ridiculous is I know my thoughts are irrational, or atleast part of me does most of the time. I know 3800 calories across the week won’t have made me gain weight… but when I feel the fat on me… it’s hard to believe the rational part of my head. Problem is I bloat really easily and that makes everything about 1000x worse. I have ribs just about showing on my left side but then lower down I look pregnant. And my hips are huge. Like naturally, the bone, I want to get rid of it completley. I hate my figure.
I hate my womanly figure. And I’m not saying that because I have gender dysphora, because I identify as male. I don’t identify as male. Nor do I identify as female all the time. But thats not what this is about.
It’s about feeling alone. Not being accepted. And yes my sexuality and gender identity do not help these matters, but they are not the main issue. I had no gender identity issues when my eating disorder started, and sexuality wise, well it depends upon when my eating disorder started. Was it at 7 when I first thought I was fat? Or 10 when I started skipping lunches, stopped having seconds of school dinners on fridays. Maybe it was at 13 when I drank two bottles of water for lunch to fill me up because I got bullied for being fat? Or maybe it was when I was 15? When I actually started losing noticable amounts of weight.
Who knows really? I guess it’s open to interpretation.
All I know is that I never did really recover. I had no therapy so it’s no wonder really. And now here I am, stuck in a rut. Drowning.