Anorexia and me: A battle of wills

It’s when you look at yourself in the mirror and realise you’re no longer that skinny anorexic. The one people said was too thin, the one people offered food and you turned away. The one who got questioned about why you wearn’t eating.

The one people worried about.

It’s when you look at yourself in the mirror and realise that you are something much worse. An obese pig. No your bigger than a pig. You’re a whale. An obese one at that.

You look pregnant. You’re out of control.

You tried to eat properly for four days but now you realise you can’t. You can’t eat properly because in four  days you’ve already become fat.


You realise starvation is your only option.

You want to recover… but anorexia is all consuming. You can’t get better. You must starve.

Going it alone?

Today I recived a letter saying college had referred me to the eating disorder services. I’m meant to phone to book an assessment but I don’t think I will. Why may you ask? You may also feel like I don’t accept help yet moan when I don’t get it and not like me because of that.

It is true that I am not good at accepting help but thats not why I’m not going to phone to book an assessment.

I’m not phoning because I can work on this on my own. I’ve increased my calories and yes it is incedibly hard especially with the constant cravings, bloating and my bottomless pit of a stomach. But I think where I am right now I can get myself out of this mess myself. With the support of people online and my friend.

I think an assessment is going to be counter-productive. Why? I know your thinking that. Because it will involve weight and detailed info about behaviours. I’ll therefore feel pressured to be as thin as possible and eat as little as possible so they belive me. It seems like an absolutly ridiculous thing to do really. To get worse to get better.I managed to get myself well enough before so I can do it again.

Thats my opinion to this anyway. I was in a dark place but I’m lifting myself out which I can do and am prfectly capable of because I am strong.

A Safety Net?

I’ve come to some realisations over the last few days:

  1. I dont really want to recover from my eatig disorder.
  2. And that is because it is a safety net to me.

Now let me explain….

I feel safe in my eating disorder, in restriction. I feel like no one can hurt me and no one can control me. It is just me and I feel powerful in abstaining from food. I know this sounds really silly but it’s true and thats why I am the way I am. That’s why Im holding on instead of making a real attemt to recover despite starvation making me increasingly cold, tired and lightheaded.

I’m actually sitting writing this in my coat and I’m still cold, which is crazy really.

Was I lying to myself all along?

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.