The Nightmare Continues

Dear Reader,

After a discussion with a friend, I realised that I have to be very careful with my words here.

I am in no way trying to glamorize anorexia or any other eating disorder; in fact if you read my previous posts you will see that- especially when in remission- I believe it to be a gruesome and serious illness. I don’t want to be this way, I just feel like I’m stuck with it now, since it has been with me for 13 years. But at the same time- I cannot lie- I enjoy starving myself. Not only do I feel like I have the control I am so often lacking in my life, but I actually get a kick out of starvation. I feel powerful.

Today is Day 5 of my fast.The longer it goes on, the longer I plan on going without food; my goals become stricter.

For the first time ever, I am completely disinterested in food. So often when I starve myself I constantly fantasize about what I’m going to eat when I allow myself to, but this time I feel I will only eat if my life is in danger (they say any person cannot go more than 3 weeks without food).

I once went 2 weeks without anything to eat when I was a teenager and so- naturally- I want to do more than 2 weeks this time around.

The weight is shifting fast but not fast enough for me, so every time I look at my body I find a renewed motivation not to eat for several more days.

I have spent most of today watching different documentaries about anorexia. I thought they would inspire me but instead I felt pity for the women who went to such desperate lengths and only cared about their weight, nothing else. I sat here judging them like that, as if I’m ‘not as bad as them’ just because I’m currently not as skinny as them.

A part of me wants help and a part of me does not. What I want is to be skinny and happy because this way I lack the happiness. I want to be able to get some help to get rid of the voices but still stay thin, somehow. But it seems I can’t have both because at a ‘healthy’ weight I am so unhappy.

Yesterday I left my home town to come and visit my parents. My boyfriend and I had a blazing row in the morning about what I’m doing to myself (and our relationship), and so I promised I would eat a small amount. So of course I lied to him, telling him on the phone I had eaten when in truth I ate nothing. My conscience is eating away at me for lying but I guess I just said it to stop him worrying.

There is a part of me that is proud of what I’m doing and so I do like to talk about it. In the car on the way home I told my parents I had ‘completely lost my appetite’ due to my physical illness. I said that so that they wouldn’t bother me about avoiding meals.

In a way I wish they could have shown some concern, but despite the fact that they’ve not seen me eat a thing they’ve not said a word, much like when I was severely ill as a teenager.

I just feel so screwed up and selfish right now but I just can’t see a way out. I risk losing my relationship entirely if I carry on down this path but it is like I have to get thin at all costs…

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