A year today, I started my recovery Journey. At this point I do not think I was underweight, or if I was it was very borderline. That’s because you don’t have to be underweight to have an eating disorder and you don’t have to be underweight to recover.

I have relapsed, ended up “significantly undwerweight” as my triggering doctor mentioned, that day when I entered the room, alone, wanting to recovery but not wanting to recover. I said I ate normally but that was a lie. That was september 1st 2013. I started recovering before-hand. A year ago today.

After a few long talks with my mentor I didn’t want to stay sick. I didn’t want food to be such the controlling power it had become over the past 5 years. I chose to try and fight against it. Actually make an effort to eat “Normally” At first I did lose a little more weight, then I maintained. I was only eating 1200 calories, but it was a good start. I started to increase my calories, knowing I needed to gain weight. 2000-2500. I tried to eat healthily. It was all good. Actually recovery was quite fun.


That morning… that dreadful morning in the summer holidays when I had stepped on the scales and gained 1/2lb. YES 1/2LB So I started restricting again, 900-1200 calories if I remember rightly. I lost 2lb in 3 days…. Don’t ask me how. On Holiday straight after I had a raging appittie and ate 4000+ calories most day, I am sure of it. Although it was all unknown and therefor could not count. I gained 3lb that week. That’s when the relapse really started.

I was underweight already but 3lb. It was too much! That was when I started restricting to a MAXIMUM of 900 calories a day. I tried to fight it. Part of me still wanted to get better. I tried to challenge myself, I just felt so awful. I thre food in the bin, pretended I had eaten it. I remember once I had awful knee pain and wouldn’t take ibuprofen. Do you know why?

Because of 0.5 calories

Now that’s just a little extreme right? I had to be empty, I barley at any of dinner with my family, but just enough to keep them unsuspecting. As the weight dropped off the fights started. I found it hugely unfair that my brothers didn’t have to eat dinner but I did? It wasn’t even like I had much of an appitite by that point, I could only eat a few mouthfulls and I felt sick to my stomach. It was awful.

As I had said previously, I was trying to fight it, it was just so hard. That was when I started to binge and oh god did that make me feel awful. See I have this phobia of throwing up and I had binged 4 times within a week. That sunday evening I couldn’t sleep. I felt so sick, I knew it was because of the food. I remember spending nights purposfully keeping the window open, leaving off the duvet, doing endless sit-ups and lunges. Anything to burn off all that fat. Discretly burn off that fat, without my parents knowing.

I remember when my form tutor said “It’s because you are slim.” SLIM! SLIM! That wasn’t good enough for me. When a class mate said “Your so incredibly skinny.” That was good enough for me. “Skinny. Skinny.” Yes I liked that, being refered to as skinny.

So at some stage picked myself back up, I got my dad to make me breakfast to make sure I ate it. 2 slices of toast. 1 Jam. (NO BUTTER OR SPREAD) 1 Marmite (NO BUTTER OR SPREAD). That was when I really started to get better and also when recovery turned into some sort of living hell at times. When I realsed how triggering the world truly is.

Not many people knew about my eating disorder, at first. Eventually I learnt to become more open about it. Which is why I started blogging. I want to raise awareness and show people that they are not alone in this.

The weight gain stage is terrifying, stepping on the scales is terrifing. Even today. There are some days I can’t bring myself to eat cake, some days I can’t bring myself to eat lunch, or dinner. Some days I majorly overeat. (Like today) But I can honestly say things get better. I am in a better position both mentally and phsycially than I was this time last year. I’m happier, I can walk up the stairs without feeling like I’m about to have a heart attack and I actually enjoy life; even though most of it is spent in my room atm cause exams and shiz.

I weighed in at 9st this morning. I still feel fat, I still feel like it’s too much and I havn’t come to accpet my body fully yet but I am getting there and I am working towards it. I give myself days where I don’t count calories atall. (Weekends) and only rough estimate some of the time. Now I am trying to learn to listen to my body. It’s hard, but in the end I am sure that it will be worth it.

The last year has been a whirlwind full of emotions but if there is one thing I would like to end this on, it’s that:

Recovery is worth it. 

Pre-ED age 9: Summer 2007







Recovery Snaps 🙂



Struggling, feeling out of control.

Ok so I have not posted a blog post in forver. Cause revision and obsessions with stupid tv shows (more like addictions)

Anyway it’s taking me a while to admit this but… I’m struggling. With life and with my ED. I’ve been making sure I’m below 2000 cals all this week and I still feel like I’ve underestimated and gained thousands of lbs. I didn’t count over the weekend and I felt like an obease cow on monday. I swear my school skirt was tighter. If I’m not fat enough already. -_-

I guess this has been comming all along though, I have been struggling with body image incresingly more since meeting and exceeding my previous highest weight. The rapid gain that comes with not counting calories has spent me into a downwards spiral. I even threw the majority of my easter chocolate in the bin!

What for exactly?

See this is the question I don’t know the answer to. What is it that makes what the eating disorder says automaticaly right and whar has to be done. Why is is that the eating disorder has to dictate how I can ‘t have any icecream or a hot chocolate? Why is it that the eating disorder makes me feel guilty for even thinking about icecream and hot chocolate?

It’s actually strange to realise how unrecovered I really am. Yes my weights fine but in my head I’m still so sick. Just no one notices. No one cares. I can skip meals and no one calls me out on it. The enviroment I’m in now makes it so vunerable to relapse and I have to take responsibility for myself so I don’t. Right now I’m using that “You need energy for your exams” thing. But after my exams…

To tell you thr truth I want to get skinny again. And no not healthy skinny, toned.. I don’t want that. I want my bones back and I want to be emaciated because people cared about me when I was underweight. People worried and people noticed me. My mum cared about me then a lot more than she ever has and I long for that back. I long for a mum who cares. And yes I know we used to fight all the time when I was skinny, skinny but atleast she noticed me. Said I was too skinny. She cared. If being skinny is the only way I can get as close to a mum who is going to hug me and tell me “it will all be ok “,as I can get. Well Skinny, skinny is the only option because truth be told I just want acceptance from my mum, I want her to love me, care about me treat me with respect.

I know she loves me really and you’ll probably call me selfish now because people are living in poverty, dyeing of cancer, living in dangerous areas of conflict.

I know I have it easy to others but we all have out struggles in life and this is mine. I know poverty is awful, living in areas of conflict…. And cancer. Well three people in our school have died from it in the last three months. Trust me. I don’t think my problems are worse than anyone elses. I think there significantly better and sometimes I belive I’m just putting on an act for attention. Moaning over nothing.

Maybe to an extent I have trouble admitting I have a problem, or maybe it’s because even my own dad has called me an attention seeker. I hate that term “Attention seeker.” The only times I draw attention to myself is when I’ve been pushed too far and I can’t take it anymore. I try to surpress my feelings as much as possible and I know it isn’t healthy but no one would want to be friends with someone who moans 24/7. I’m a shit friend. I know that. I totally understand why my friends have been quiet around me and ignoring me… I’m attnetion seeky, annoying, moany, I have a big nose, I walk like a man, I smell, my hairs a mess and quite frankly it probably looks like I have no self respect.

I feel so lost and so out of control right now… Just having so much rushing through my head…. 24 hours a day. 7 days a week. I hardly sleep anymore because lets face it sleep is overrated. I’m going to fail my GCSE’S because I never revise enough and probably going to end up homeless.

This fear of failure and lack of acceptance it really is hurting me… breaking me…