I know this is long winded, but any thoughts would really help...
I gave up Prettythin a while ago, it all got too much for me, I went to the doctors, got put in a program, I've left the program, I'm scared to know what I weigh. Terrified. They told me I was anorexic.... Well if they could see me now.
My body was in shock, and I ate, and kept eating, my standards have gone. I have ZERO control. I hate it. God I absolutely detest what I've let myself become. I used to be stronger. I've let food ruin me, and I continually do it, everyday now. I know the strength is there, I need it back, I can't wait around for it to come.
I can't stand my crazy shifting moods, the whole fucking despair of it all. When I was skinny I was proud. I need to be back. I never planned to end up with an illness. I never planned anything. It just became me.
And now I've lost me.
And I can't fail. Can't. Can't. Can't. I've smothered myself with this horrid flesh. I can't take it anymore.
And so I come back here, half of my being, and doubling in size. I never understood until now what it feels like to have nobody around who understands. Physically I'm better, I'm fucking average, this horrible mass of body shape. So they can think they've won. I know I've failed. Physically I look average, what a horrible thing to do to myself, and yet mentally, I feel a hundred times worse than when I was 'ill.'
I left my program but the eating didn't stop. Hasn't stopped. I feel so disgusted it's hard to face people. This is not me. I know what I was then and I nobody can tell me that I was wrong then. I know better.
So in one last feeble attempt to regain me, I'm asking if anybody out there feels similar, or has felt similar, or can push me out of this. I've let other people's views trick my conciousness. Trust me, I feel pathetic that I have to ask for help on this. But I can't hang around waiting for myself to gradually get back to what makes me happy. I need to lose my gain now, it's killing my life. It's killing my mind. And yes I know that I'm contradicting any medical reasoning.
But truly, please, if there's anyone that wants to email and give some support, I promise IO can return the favour.
In December, I was teetering between 91 and 93 punds, my BMI was under 15. Today, I'm too afraid of the scales. I broke mine ages ago in fit of frustration. Honestly I feel like I could weigh nine stone. I desperately don't want this to be true. I want to look and be relieved, that I'm widely over estimating. But it doesn't feel that way. I'm am a mass. The thing is though, numbers don't matter so much to me. What hurts the most, is the fact that my beloved bones, my fragile definiton is gone. Gone. Disappeared into the rotton punds of food I surrendered to.
I turn 23 in a month, I'm getting old, I don't want it to all be in vain.
So like I said, if anybody wants to talk outside of prettythin, let me know,
Thanks for reading, I really appreciate it, I know it's long and self pitying, I don't plan on sounding like this for long... xx
(if you want a better picture; I used to blog here... www.withsilverfeet.blogspot.com)