Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Painful truths.

I have a confession to make. I'm not a stranger to blogging. As a matter of fact I used to have a pro-ana blog. The fact that I used to be part of such a immature, dangerous community makes me sick and ashamed. Another thing that makes me very sad is that on that blog I had 22 followers. On this blog I have 7. I just think it's so twisted how many more people are interested in staying "sick" then in getting better. I know recovery is a personal choice, but it's just so sad to see the facts. In any case, I haven't been on that blog in a year.

That's right, I haven't closed my pro-ana blog. But wait, before you make assumptions or judgments listen to my reasons for keeping it open. If I was ever tempted to go back to my old ways I wanted to have a realistic picture of what life with an ED was like. After a while in recovery I tend to forget the horrors of life with anorexia. I tell myself "It wasn't really THAT bad. Sure I was lacking in energy, and spent most of my time in seclusion, and was scarred to death of food. But other then that there wasn't all that much to hate about it". But there IS. I wanted to be able to go back and read the nitty gritty, painful, disgusting details of my past life and remember clearly why I didn't want to go back there. At the same time, I needed to be strong enough to be sure it would give me a shock treatment without triggering me.
Well today was that day. I logged in and read a few of the posts from around this time last year. I would be lying if I said they didn't trigger me a little. But they were a brutal eye opener to just how miserable and pointless my life with an eating disorder was. It made me wonder how I could ever think I was "happy" living like that in the first place. The truth in my case was that I was miserable, but I felt that recovery meant even more misery and pain. I am so thankful I am proving every day that that is wrong.

I am going to put a few posts from my blog here. They will probably be triggering for some people, so if you are easily triggered please don't read on. But if you want a look at the painful reality of living with an ED, this is the truth in it's truest, rawest form.

Why is it that the things that make me happy also are the things that make me sad?

I think the title of the post says it all. I just don't understand why that has to be. It's not fair, really. What makes me happy? Sitting in the kitchen on a cold wintry day, drinking a cup of tea, talking with friends and eating warm cookies used to make me happy. Not so anymore. Those cookies started a binge session that just finished recently. Ugh, not fair. Sleeping made me happy, now it's an escape from reality, and when i wake up i just want to eat. My birthday used to be something i look forward to, now it's just something i dread. I feel like life's little joys have been snatched away from me, and i don't know how to find them again. And I feel like something's missing. I try to fill the void with alcohol, people and occasionally food, but it's not working. What is happy? What is fun? Some days I don't remember anymore.

The balancing act.

The more i think about it, the more i realize that my life is one, great big balancing act. Everything I do, everything I say all has to be thoroughly thought out and planned. Not one day can I just jump out of bed and be ready for the day. There are a bunch of little procedures and rituals i have to go through. Every day i need to know what I'm doing and why. I need to have my work, my eating, my work out - everything planned to a tee. Why? Because I'm balancing. There are days I try to throw all my caution to the wind and just live like i used to - spur of the moment. That resolution lasts short term, but in the long run i end up running back to my center of gravity - my plans, rituals and habits. Without them, I'm lost, out of balance, falling....

Today I'm falling, hopefully i can stop myself before i got too far.

Why do i even bother posting? Who really gives a damn? If i were reading this I would think "Why can't this little girl get a life and stop whinnying". But i know why. It's because this is my god damned life. All of this, it's who and what i am. And i can't get away from it no matter how i tried.

Threw up blood today. That's supposed to be bad, right? Well i don't care. None of my meals were watched, no one asked. I binged and purged 3 f-ing times. That's what happens when I don't plan my meals. I'm probably having a weigh in tomorrow. I know i gained, but not since the last weigh in. They'll be pissed. 

I wish i could get over myself and gain weight. I wish everyone didn't have to hate me because I'm thin. I wish i could just leave all this behind and move on to live a happy life. But that's all a big pipe dream. 

Why do i fight so hard to maintain my weight? Why does the thought of weighing in 1 kilo heavier terrify and depress me? Why do i want this life? 

I don't know, I really don't know.

This morning i weighed in lighter then the day before, even after my whole buffet lunch. I thought i ate a lot, but i felt like everyone was looking at my plate when i was serving myself food. I would pick up food and then stop and put it back. I felt guilty with every bite. I cut up my food in little tiny pieces like those movie portrayed anorexics. I tried to purge in the bathroom. I'm so fucked up.

I am SO thankful that I am free of that life. I am free to enjoy the things that make me happy once again. I do not live by a set of rules and regulations. I can enjoy the moment and savor it to the full. Most importantly I am knowledgeable of the fact that there is so much more to life then an ED. And I am out to take advantage of all there is.


  1. Wow, that is some powerful stuff, hun. It's painful to read but at the same time it makes recovery seem so much easier when you look back. I'm so glad that you saw the light and discovered that you really are worth recovery :)


  2. When I first started in recovery I was asked to keep a "journal" and write down my thoughts. When I felt like purging, carving, cutting...or were just plain upset I was supposed to write my thoughts on paper. I did that for a while but it ended up making me more and more sick. At the time I was too sick to realize the lie's I was writing. My nutritionist even gave me two different colored highlighters and asked my to use one color to represent what was truly me and the other for Ed...I tried but often couldn't tell.. And when I did most of it was ED. When I was asked to stop writing I did, but didn't stop looking back over everything that I had written - it kept me doing what my ED wanted. At one session I was extremely mad with my ED and hurridly aske my nutritionist to just keep my journal for me so I wouldn't be tempted to look at it...The next moment I felt horrible, like I was a loser and had just given up my only means of sane life! I couldn't believe I had just asked her to keep my journal, I needed that. She saw my look and laughed.."Ed didn't like that did he?" Then my anger for my ED came back and I haven't seen that journal since!!

    Thank you for your powerful post! I skimmed most of your previous pro-ana posts just to say safe - past week's been kind of rough and I don't want to go backwards. Thanks for the warning!

    Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!!

  3. I'm proud of you!!!! Like I said you are a Gladiator and I love you!!!! :) xoxo