“The mirror is my enemy.

My figure twisted and distorted, into something shallow and unapproving.

Seeking happiness,

I can only find emptiness.

Deep inside,

A lost child,

Who can’t escape.

I study my features and turn,

Defeated.

Shouts of torment haunt me, and it’s voice taunts me.

I am discusted at the person that I have become.

My reflection stares back at me,

Cracking and crumbling,

Blending into reality.”

After conversing with my Pastor this morning, about some seriously troubling feelings and thoughts I’ve been struggling with, he suggested that I try to pinpoint some of these issues.What are the underlying reasons that are forcing me to deal with the presenting issues?Right here, right now.My past is spotty.I am a product of Adoption.My Birth Mother was a Drug Addict.A prostitute.In jail.Adopted.Used.Abused.And then discarded.Carelessly tossed away.Like trash.Obviously I have feelings of abandonment and attachment.Shame.Guilt.Rejection.Resentment.Anger.A LOT of anger.BURNING anger.Suffocating anger.Towards others, but mostly at myself.Why didn’t I fight harder?Scream louder?Hurt HIM like he hurt ME?Make him pay.I used to dream about killing him.I did.I can’t lie.I slept with one eye open.One hand ready to flail.Punch, hit, bruise, or break.My strength didn’t match his.I refused to admit defeat.Refuse to admit that he broke me.Shattered into a 1,000 pieces.Jagged shards glistening.My brokenness delighted him.He liked having the upper hand.He was King.I was his pawn.The Queen of the Castle?Beheaded.His Jester sneered insults.Thrown to the Lions.Losing the battle before it even began.Bloody lip, broken buttons rolling across the hardwood floor.I noticed a broken nail.I gleefully hoped it was inbedded in his skin somewhere.I am worthless.Hopeless.Ashamed.Wasted years searching for my own validation.Visibility.Worthiness.Then I met a girl named Ana.She promised individuality.Perfection.Uniqueness.I just had to give her everything I owned in return.Done.Safety.Trust.Understanding.Then she introduced me to her even better friend.Bulimia.And then her cousin.Drugs.Always promising a better outcome than the last.A journey of chasing after feelings of inadequacy.A trade off.Trail blazing.Literally.Anywhere but here.And anyone but me.Jagged breathing.Hunted.A false sense of security.What even IS that?The presenting issues of my past, plague my future.Blocking the sun.Leaving no sign of life anywhere.Trampled.Forgotten.Gone.

It’s my Husband’s 45th Birthday today! 💗

I’m treating him to a nice late lunch outside of where we live, at a cool little Restaurant we’ve both wanted to try for awhile.

I’ve barely eaten today, due to my lack of willpower last night, mindlessly inhaling an ENTIRE large bag of stupid Red Vines Licorice while watching a Movie!

I can NEVER just eat a few.

I don’t even think I ate much yesterday.

BUT.

It doesn’t matter.

It was still TOO much.

It will always be too much.

Nothing, would be better.

Emptiness.

Like a stale soda, defizzed.

Besides, to ruin the satisfaction of feeling my insides gnaw inwards, was a mistake.

A huge mistake.

A moment of weakness.

And now I have to pay for it.

Yes, as stupid as it may seem, MY “punishment” to myself is to purposely keep myself in a caloric deficit.

Sliding heavily but eagerly into the Booth, my eyes begin to devour the Menu.

Feeling anxious.

Wow, I REALLY want to order a HUGE Burger, with Goat Cheese, and Pesto, and Avocado.

Oh, and Bacon.

Yessss, Bacon.

Yes, please!

And Sweet Potato Fries.

And then I see the Salads.

ED-voice is forcing me to only have selective hearing, so I zone in.

Mmm…

Ok, a Wedge Salad.

Light on the Dressing.

Better make that on the side, please.

No Bacon.

And no Blue Cheese, either.

Oh, and a Diet Coke!

My stomach growls.

I am really nauseous.

Ick.

Siiiigh.

Did I really come here to order a measley Salad?

On my Hubby’s Birthday?

Do I dare ruin his Dinner?

No.

I can’t.

The nice juicy Burger won.

YUM.

Minimal eating for ME this week, I guess.

No guessing, silly girl.

You KNOW damn well you will now have to be extremely disciplined.

Nothing new.

It’s the price you have to pay.

BUT it IS worth eating WITH my Husband, rather than him watching me move the food around on my plate…

Cutting it into squares.

Squares again.

Tiny bites.

Rolling his eyes.

Eyeing up the tiny pieces of Burger I’d managed to eat, and then hiding some under my lettuce, boxing the second half….

Which is exactly what I did.

BUT I saved room for Dessert!

And Coffee.

There is ALWAYS room for Coffee.

Besides, I need the energy.

Decadent Flourless Chocolate Cake.

Hell, yes.

Fudge, is more like it.

Ug.

It’s like eating 5 or 6 Candy bars all at once.

My stomach is literally churning.

Somedays I think I enjoy the game of “Cat-and-Mouse”, that I haphazardly play with myself.

Control.

Weakness.

Regret.

Anger.

Fear.

Apparently I AM a true glutton for my own punishment.

AND the wheel keeps turning…..

Did you know that Eating Disorders are the number 1 cause of death when dealing with Mental Illnesses?

Yep.

Usually by Self.

Suicide…..

Kind of a rough word to say, much less actually talk about, eh?

THEN there are the physical consequences due to having an Eating Disorder.

Much TOO long of a list.

Really.

I would be lying if I told you that I was scared of dying.

I’m not.

Sometimes the idea of having to LIVE with an Eating Disorder’s wrath, is enough.

For other’s, that fine line of death and life, is and can be, erasable.

KNOWING that you can’t escape it’s tightening grip, is enough to make you WANT to die.

I’m not quite sure if there are any “tap-outs” in THIS game….

An Eating Disorder is a slow death.

And then…..?

You’re choked out.

I wonder what dies first?

The body?

Or the mind?

I mean, does that annoying ED-voice FINALLY cease to fire its fucking scrutiny?

Or does it, like ALWAYS, get the last laugh?

Inquiring minds want….

Okay, NEED to know.

SURRENDER:

DEFEAT:1. To overcome or beat, to win a victory; to triumph. To WIN.Mmm….am I winning or losing today?Winning, in the sense of feeling IN control by restricting food.Losing, in the sense of feeling like I’m walking through my life, alone.Utterly alone.I KNOW that’s not true, but at times it sure feels like it.Like no one understands.Like no one gets me.It doesn’t matter, I don’t even get myself most of the time.Either way, I am pondering the definitions of these 2 words today….Which category does MY life fall into?Surrender.OrDefeat.

Only eating the equivalent of a jar of Applesauce in cute little packets, and drinking Stevia “flavored” Coffee all day.

And then forcing yourself to quietly and quickly, inhale 2 pieces of Pizza, because not only are you literally STARVING, but you’ve gotta look like you’re eating “normally”….

It looked delicious.

AND smelled even better.

On the ride HOME, your stomach is having an absolute seizure because it’s like, “WTH are you DOING, feeding me SOLID food!?”

I.DO.KNOT.LIKE.IT.

(Nice pun, right, lol!?) Ha!

No, seriously….

SO, you’re driving, or at least TRYING to, along the dark roads with a doggy poop bag in one hand, in case you accidently barf, and at the SAME time debating WHERE you can just pull over to get a frickin’ GRIP so that you’re NOT having a Panic Attack!?!

And maybe puke.

Definately puke.

Without drawing attention to yourself.

Easier said than done.

Try explaining THAT to a Police Officer who stops to see what’s going on, because they’ve received a complaint of “suspicious” behavior.

Seriously!?

Dead.

Serious.

Been there.

Done that.

Fuck.

Are we REALLY back to “here” again?

At THIS point, you thankfully remember buying some probiotics, and KNOWING that they will automatically “calm-the-storm”, you take one. Or two.

Ok, a handful….

Just for good measure.

You can’t really take TOO many, you remind yourself.

PLUS you’ll be less likely to purge….because it’s “medicine”.

The war raging in your belly has quieted down enough that you’re ACTUALLY thinking of buying a couple of cheap gas station donuts on your way home, to “round” out your lovely, and pathetic, little “Binge” of the night.

Maybe you’ll keep ’em down, maybe you won’t.

You wonder if Ice-Cream is on sale?

Mmmm…..

It doesn’t matter what FLAVOR, really.

Whatever is cheapest.

You won’t truly taste it anyway.

Nope.

Just 3 plain glazed Donuts.

YUM.

You leave the store, mouth watering in anticipation.

Two seconds later, AFTER you’ve ALREADY pinched your discusting fat-rolls, and “jelly-belly”, as a hard cruel reminder to YOURSELF that you don’t NEED to be eating MORE food, you suddenly realize the Donuts are gone.

Damn.

Kind of wished you had more.

But, SUPER glad you don’t.

Because you would HAVE to eat them.

ALL of them.

There is NO saving THAT deliciousness for another day!

Because honestly?

They would be on your mind CONSTANTLY, anyway.

UNTIL you ate them.

Oh, the games you play!?!

You definitely DON’T deserve MORE donuts, since you’ve already eaten ENOUGH to turn yourself into a fat Pig.

That’s ALL you’re going to see in the mirror, as soon as you can secretly dissect yourself in the bathroom, anyway.

A.

Fat.

Pig.

It’s knowing that you aren’t going to “allow” yourself to eat very much today because of last night’s stupid, stupid, STUPID mistake.

It’s letting that ED “voice” take over, and convince you to take a “poop” pill as SOON as you wake up the next morning.

Just to “clean” yourself out.

Shit.

💩

(Haha, man, you can make yourself chuckle!)

It’s feeling tired.

All.the.time.

But KNOWING you have to do better.

As much and as often as possible.

Every minute, and every hour, of every day.

And so, you continue to just “keep on, keeping on”…..

Blech.

You feel like you’re always striving to earn other’s perfection, so WHY can’t you earn YOURS?!

I’m stuck.

Like, REALLY stuck.

SO stuck that I can’t move forward.

I feel like I am just slipping backwards.

With no brakes.

How the F*@* did I get HERE again!?

Little “bad” habits are turning into BIG pieces of my life.

I can feel myself retreating into my own mind.

Walls being built.

Lies breaking free.

My heart growing a little colder and harder.

RETREAT, my mind is screaming.

Find a safe place.

Hide.

Living in the shadows of unworthiness.

Only “good” girls get to eat.

I am not a “good” girl.

I am bad, bad, bad!

“You’re not trying hard enough!”

ANA is screaming.

LOUD.

LOUDER.

I tried drowning her.

But She came back

And She is PISSED.

She didn’t like being silenced.

She wants revenge.

She likes to see ME stuck.

Stuck with nowhere to go.

S.T.U.C.K.

This morning, as I was struggling to get ready to start my day, I received a Message on my phone….Apparantly having an Eating Disorder has become “contagious”, and my Friend is afraid she’s going to “catch” it!?! 🙄Seriously?She went on to say that I’m not in a good spot mentally, and therefore the feels that it would be better that she keeps her distance right now…and then went on to say that she’s afraid that MY poor body image will rub off on HER, and she doesn’t need that right now…..Aside from the huge lump in my throat from trying NOT to cry, I also had to bite from my tongue HARD, from lashing out at her total ignorance! Ok, smacking her THRU the phone doesn’t work, lol, but I really wanted to, I can’t lie! 😜An Eating Disorder is NOT contagious. It does NOT “rub” off on you, just like YOUR shallowness of your idea of being a true friend does NOT rub off on ME! 😉Eating Disorders are a PERSONAL manifestation of Trauma, Abuse, and Body Dysmorphia.It’s not something that everyone gets.It’s definately not a contagious Disease!?!UNLESS….you also struggle with your own personal Eating and Food Demon’s.And even THEN, blaming someone else for your own trials and tribulations, perhaps isn’t the right approach? 😐Having an Eating Disorder ALREADY isolates me enough on my OWN. To have someone intentionally isolate me, well, kinda hurts my feelings, and makes me want to stay isolated in my own world!Those of us struggling with an Eating Disorder, just want people to understand WHY we are the way we are.Most of us don’t even KNOW why. We just know we’re different than our friends and family.We have a hard time simply enjoying food to sustain us.We’re NOT doing it for attention, in fact, we’re not doing it for YOU at all!It’s OUR life’s coping mechanism!It’s OUR life that hangs in the balance. NOT yours.All we ask is that you are kind to us.Maybe show a little extra support when you see us using our ED “behaviors “.Maybe just a quick hug or an encouraging word?Shaming us doesn’t really work.De-friending me works for YOU, but now I’m left wondering if we were ever friends. Were we?Come to think of it, you were never really there for me.You never called, never wrote, never even acknowledged that I was rapidly shrinking physically and mentally, and had to go to Treatment. I was scared, hurting, and defeated. Not once did you try to calm my fears or offer to sit with me during a meal. Not once did you visit me, out of fear that your Daughter would see me “like that”, and begin to ask questions. Not once did you return my phone calls or messages.So, maybe this IS for the best?At this point in my life, I need people who truly care about me.NOT people who pretend.

Why, why, WHY, did I volunteer to take my Husband out for Breakfast this morning!?

He is ruining my chance of skipping meals today!

Sneaky.

I am afraid to eat.

Weird, right!?

But I am.

Terrified, really.

When I eat, I FEEL “Fat”.

When I eat, LOOK “Fat”.

And when I eat, I AM “Fat”……

Yes, food SMELLS good, LOOKS good, and TASTES good.

But I can’t eat it.

I wish it was as easy to simply “just eat”, because you’re “hungry”.

But it’s NOT.

I wish it were.

I WISH that I could just stroll over to my Fridge, and just nosh. Without a second thought. Without guilt. (As alluring as last night’s Stir-Fry that my Husband made, LOOKS, I won’t be eating any.)

I can’t.

So, I’m not.

Food is so…..complicated.

And overrated.

How many times have you ordered and eaten something, only to be disappointed?

I rest my case.