Recovery Tumblr

I'm still going to post here, but the more small/mundane posts about this journey are going on my tumblr, enjoy!

I'm Going to Recover

Scars.

I have scars. Everyone does. But I have scars that are going to be a very permanent reminder of this period in my life. This time... it's not forever. But my scars are. I have them on my forearms and thigh, and they're going to fade, but not entirely. I hate that I have words etched into my skin that will be a permanent reminder of how f*ucked in the head I've been. I hate that I have a permanent mark to remind me, even on my best days, that I once hated myself so much.

But at the same time, they remind me that I'm stronger now than I was even weeks ago.

So, as much as I regret them, I am proud of my scars. The fact that they're scars, not cuts, reminds me just how far I've come.

1 Year Stronger

I was going to post this yesterday, but I couldn't bring myself to write about it yet.

Last year I was madly in love. I was in a relationship that felt absolutely perfect. But there were a few things wrong with it, details I won't go into here.

Basically, not through my choice or the person I was with's, that relationship ended. This was the spark that set off all the problems I have today.
That was May 17th last year.
So, yesterday, exactly 1 year ago this rollercoaster began.
In a way, I'm grateful for all of this happening - it's made me a stronger person, I'm closer with my family, I'm more aware of my emotions and I'm working on my perfectionism... but there's a little part of me that hates May 17th so damn much. If May 17th hadn't happened this time last year, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have spent the better part of a month in hospital. I wouldn't have nearly died. I'd be okay. I hate this. I hate this day.

So yeah. That's my little rant over.

Calling her "Ana"

"Ana" and "Mia" were names I adopted for my ED when I was in hospital. The other girls talked about how "Ana" was laughing at them and taunting them, and I related.
Having an eating disorder is like having a little devil on your shoulder.

















"Ana" talks to me. She tells me I have no right to recover, that I never will, that she'll always be waiting, ready to starve me again when the opportunity arises. She laughs at me, taunts me, tells me I'm a fat, ugly, worthless bitch who'll never amount to anything. She tells me I have to be perfect, and assures me that as much as I try I'll never reach her impossible standards. But still, I try. When Ana fails and I eat, Mia slinks up, telling me to purge, to binge, to exercise, take laxatives. Do anything to get rid of the food.

But the crazy thing? Ana doesn't really exist. Neither does Mia. They're disorders, all in my head. They're my own creation, yet I have this abusive, love-hate relationship with them. With figments of my own mind.

But I'm just so stuck. It's awful, feeling trapped by a person that isn't even real. It's all me, it always has been. This disorder isn't some  evil entity on my shoulder. It's ME.

They tell me I have to separate myself from the disorder, but a part of me thinks that doing that is no better than trying to exorcise me. You can't take away a part of my own mind.

I'm so confused.

I wish I could make sense of this illness. I wish I could just let go of Ana and Mia.

Conquering a Fear Food

Okay, so on Sunday night I did something I haven't successfully done in over a year.
I ate pizza. Two whole slices. Fatty, cheesy, oily pizza.
I had a salad, some garlic bread and a sugar-free drink with it to bump up the calories a little, because two slices of pizza isn't enough food, but I ate pizza.
My ultimate fear food.
Pizza, pasta, cheese, potato, ice cream - they're my absolute scariest fear foods.

But I've conquered successfully pasta over the last few months, and I don't get too scared eating it anymore.
As for pizza, I never thought I'd get over that. Every time I've had it, I've purged it. I get scared just thinking about eating it. But I did it. Two whole slices of takeaway.

Some tips for conquering fear foods:
1. Have some non-scary food with it, like a big salad.
2. Eat smaller portions to start out with, and supplement the calories with something less scary.
3. Distract yourself while you're eating, music, TV, a game e.t.c takes your mind off it
4. Remind yourself that it's a food! Just a food, that normal people eat and enjoy, and that's it's okay to have it.

Remember everyone, you deserve food and life and recovery. <3

Admission no. 4

About a week ago, I was admitted to hospital for a fourth time.

I cut myself really badly at school, and my mum took me to the ER, and they admitted me to the psych ward for two nights. It was okay I guess. I calmed down, and they changed my medication, so by the time I went home I was feeling a lot better.
Hope you guys are doing good!

Music

I have all these songs that I associate with my time in hospital, and it's weird, I can't listen to them without bringing back the old feelings of being in hospital.
Like "Kissing You" by Miranda Cosgrove. There was this one boy on the unit who was OBSESSED with Miranda, and he used to go into the gym and blast her CD while he exercised. But I remember a few times (during my second and third admissions) me and sometimes some of the other ED girls would sneak into the gym while this boy was exercising, which we were totally not allowed to do, and exercise secretly. Now, every time I hear that song I feel really pumped up and rebellious, like doing something naughty.

Then there was the music I sang while I was there. There was a nurse, Suzy, who brought in a keyboard and guitar and she'd sit with me for hours and sing and play with me because she knew it took my mind off things. Still, the songs I sang with her, like Hallelujah and Let Her Go, make me want to cry, because when I hear them, all I can think of is the desolation I felt in those darkest moments in hospital when I most desperately wanted to go home.

I had my MP3 player with me during my admissions, and I used to listen to music almost constantly.

Even now, I have a playlist called "Shrinking Mind" that, chronologically, has songs that lead from the heartbreak that triggered my ED, to the depths of my illness, to a shining light of recovery in the end, that I know I haven't quite reached yet.