Tag: anorexia

A Promise Broken

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It was on the treadmill at that mile and half with two minutes to go before I had to get off, stretch, and get back to work. I hit that runner’s high. It felt so good to get to that point finally. Exhausted I stepped off but feeling amazing I stretched out and went back to work. Stepping back into the office and clocking back in it hit me. A promise had officially been broken. Not just a promise but a pinky promise. It was in that moment I felt utterly broken. If she finds out she will be undoubtedly disappointed.

As these words pour from my soul, tears pour down my cheeks. How did I get here again? I just want to be tiny. I didn’t want to give her her power back. I tried to keep myself from going this far again. Another day where my total intake was less than what a bird would eat. Yet, I have found a sense of peace in writing this.

I found this in a quick search for something else. There was that reminder. That one touch of hope felt so soothing. As it says there are only small steps upward. It is right. One small step towards one small piece of recovery is moving upward and out of the hole. That is where I need to get to. To a point where the mirror, the scale, the numbers simply no longer matter. That the only thing that matters should be the laughter and the smiles. That love should be the guiding voice and not that of her stealing those moments away.

One day, one bite, one less tear. One step at a time. I pray that I open my eyes and my heart tomorrow to a beautiful day where I choose to listen to love and let her go to the back where she can scream but hopefully it will be more like a whisper. I need to stop looking to be tiny and fragile. One day, I hope I reach that.

For now, Ana is in control and I am fighting to get that control back. I’ve already destroyed the pinky promise I made. I can only make the choice to turn around and try again. I need to make that choice as I don’t think my physical heart can take any more. The chest pains and missing/skipping beats have intensified again and it is that sinking feeling that the eating disorder is finally taking its toll. I don’t want to be another girl that died from anorexia or complications thereof. I want to live. I know there is so much more to life and I will be damned if I let Ana take that away from me.

Chasing Numbers

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I spent the weekend counting smiles and laughs. I got to be fully present with the ones around me. I tried to be fully in recovery mode, I really did. Was it a success? No. By no means. But that is okay. It is okay.

I made a huge mistake and I looked. The number I saw was beyond embarrassing and worse than I had imagined. That was it. I didn’t want recovery. Those smiles are just memories now. Moments have passed and here I am in the present. Her voice kicks up and she starts hissing her hateful words over and over. Here I am still in horrible back pain and I am running. I hit half a mile, then a mile, then two… forever chasing the next number. Searching for the runner’s high. If I could just run another mile then I will be okay but my legs can’t go another step. Next the weighted hula-hoop whose sound goes on and on as time goes by. Ten minutes and then twenty. Forty minutes in and I can no longer take the pain. I crumbled to the floor in sheer physical and mental agony.

It is a holiday, it’s the 4th. I should be enjoying the day. Given I am completely sunburnt from the boat trip, I should still have been outside enjoying the sun. Instead, I am inside counting every calorie, every minute, every second, every step, every pound. Back to the weighted hula-hoop I go. I push my body to forty minutes and again the pain is too much to push on to an hour. If only I could go for a run. It is just too hot. I will eat nothing. I will do whatever it takes to get rid of what I have allowed myself to become.

EDIT:

I have spent my lunch hour at the gym. I woke up this morning and the scale went down. It is finally working. Recovery can sit on the side lines until I am smaller. I refuse to be like this. I get on that treadmill and I push myself as far as I could just outside of that runner’s high. I missed out simply because my feet couldn’t keep on the treadmill without veering left or right. I nearly fell twice. No runner’s high. Just feeling defeated. I cannot be at this weight. I refuse to be. One half an avocado on toast for breakfast and a cliff bar for something to take my morning meds with. One Orgain nutrition shake for “lunch” and an apple. That’s it. Nothing else. Nothing. I won’t stop until I am tiny. I will be tiny. I do not want recovery any more. I have a pinky promise with someone very special to me and I am terrified when she finds out I broke that promise. The guilt sucks so much. I’m sorry.

It’s Really Bad

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I don’t understand how I got this bad this fast. Lying and sneaking. Losing almost 4 in two days has made it worth it. Feeling empty feels so powerful. I get to control this. No one else. Not even her. Ana has always been there and she always will be. Last night Mia stopped by real quick and I haven’t felt that gross in a long time. I definitely didn’t listen to her and give in to those behaviours. I really wanted to but I didn’t have the energy. It is sad to know that my intense back pain was the only thing that kept me from engaging in a nasty behaviour.

You know she is winning when you cry over the thought of your normal nutrition shake and a wonderful honey crisp apple. 250 for the shake and 48 for the apple. Count in coffee of 182 (creamer) and that is still under 500. These very two items have become a staple in my diet and now she has me crying. I don’t understand why. It is 3:00pm. So that totals to 480. My tdee is around 2,000 and my BMR is 1,400. So my journey in recovery reminds me that 480 for a daily total can be a death sentence.

But today, July 01, 2022 I choose to keep trying to climb out of the hole. Recovery is a wonderful thing. I just gave up on it. I gave up on me. I can either try again with recovery or I can die trying to be tiny. I want to live. I really do. I need to relinquish the need for control. I need to do better.

Where is the White Rabbit?

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Where is the white rabbit? I lost him. He went that way and I think he went down that hole. Oh dear Alice, don’t follow him.

Oh but I did.

Numbers, numbers, numbers. These have filled my head and dance in my vision. You take up too much space. You ate too many. You can’t eat today. You are too heavy. You didn’t run. You didn’t workout. You sat too long. You didn’t have enough steps. Your stomach growled too loudly too many times. You are just as broken as your Fitbit. Too much.

And so the road we know can be all too slippery. Once you get too close you will fall. Every single time. It isn’t that you fall but that you get back up and climb back out of that hole and move forward every single time.

Right now, I’m moving like a sloth so ever slowly moving forward.

I want to find my “enough.” But where do I find it?

I know you cannot find “enough” in being thin enough. I know you cannot find it by being sick enough. I know it will never be found in skinny enough. So, where do I find it?

Can someone lead the way? Right now it is too dark in here and I need someone to guide me out.