I was able to go five weeks without self harming. It would have been 35 days tonight. 35 days of urges. 35 days of urge surfing. 35 days of ignoring the buzz of sharps calling me from afar, from the kitchen, from my desk, from the toolbox. It would have been 35 days if it… Continue reading Broken streaks and bloodied sheets
The urges rattle my bones as if there were an earthquake beneath my skin. Clenched fists hang at my sides as if the harder I press my fingernails into my palms, the easier it will be to win this fight. The thought consumes me: to cut or not to cut? That is the only question.… Continue reading A Surge of Urges
Every year, I tell myself things will get better. They never do. The pain is endless, and I am mostly left feeling distraught. As 2011 ended, depression had a firm grasp over me, and anorexia was beginning to infest my soul. By 2012, all the behaviours of my eating disorder had appeared; excessive exercise, calorie… Continue reading New Year, Old Me
There were many things I have told myself I would never do. I never thought I would let myself gain weight, but I have been physically recovered from anorexia for two years now. I never thought I would self harm, but now I have a body covered in the scars of my self-destruction. I never… Continue reading Returning from the irreversible
Tonight should have been a binge night. See, everything was going well until I successively broke three of Ana's most important rules: Eating after breakfast before I was hungry Eating a non-lunch food for lunch (in this case, leftover veggie nachos) Baking, and eating not one, but two muffins, again before I was hungry. It was looking… Continue reading A Small Win – in your face Ana!
Not sleeping. Not eating properly. Discovering alcohol. Which, as it turns out, makes me 1) not sleep, and 2) suppresses my appetite. So it's both a problem (because I'm more exhausted than ever) and a solution (because I don't want to eat anyway). Self-harming to punish myself for not eating properly and discovering alcohol. My… Continue reading Some Struggles of Late
This week, I saw something that frustrated me. It frustrated me to the point of 'borderline rage', the kind that hasn't consumed me for a long time, and the impulsivity that accompanies this. In this case, the impulsive act didn't cause much corporeal damage - I posted a long, deeply personal post via Facebook. The… Continue reading Anorexic is not an adjective
I saw my psychiatrist today. And for the first time since I started seeing any mental health professional (we're talking a span of years), I didn't leave angry at myself. I left satisfied. I left feeling like I'm actually going to get somewhere - even though I'm sick, even though I'm struggling, even though I'm an anxious… Continue reading Finally Learning to Self Advocate
Sometimes I count calories so meticulously I know for certain how many have gone in and out. Sometimes I eat more calories in one sitting then I could ever hope to count. Tonight is one of those nights.
It's happening as I check this label one more time, just in case I was wrong. It's happening as I add and subtract endlessly in my head, always overcompensating just to be safe. It's happening as I consider the lowest carb, lowest fat meal I can construct from the vegetables in my fridge. It's happening… Continue reading Here it Comes