My eating disorder

 Okay, so I've had an eating disorder for just over 4 years now. I am weight restored and mostly recovered, but still struggle occasionally. It started with anorexia, then went into severe bulimia for several months, then back to anorexia, then bulimia, then both. So back and fourth a few times. When I think back to when I was in the midst of my eating disorder, it makes me want to cry. Just last night I was reading through my old diaries, the one where I was at my worst, nearly every entry had the same "i hate myself, i want to die, im so fat and ugly, im a fucking worthless failure, ate too much, need to lose more weight". The self loathing was disturbingly strong, and how obsessive I was with every calorie and every food and drink item I consumed. I just felt numb after reading it, 2 years ago I was at my worst. In the low 80s and completely starved, I was high on starvation, and drugs. Which I did to 1) help lose weight, and 2) escape reality. Exactly 2 years ago, I was sick. Very sick. I can only remember through photos and diary entries, the rest is a blur. It's like it never really happened, even though I know it did. I've tried so hard to block it out. I was so self consumed with myself, and the scale, the number on the scale defined my self worth as a human being. A usual day back then consisted of waking up, my first thought - weight. weigh yourself. now now now. morning is the most accurate way, no clothes on, no hair ties, not even socks. I remember how much of a struggle getting out of bed was. Because I was so unwell, physically from the lack of food, I was very weak and dizzy. I remember I would slowly have to get up, but then I'd get a head rush and black out and have to lie down again. It usually took at least 10 attempts to get out of bed, of which once I stood up the dizziness overtook me, I'd have to hang on to the wall in order to prevent myself from collapsing. I would go to the bathroom then do my morning ritual. Take my clothes off and examine my body. My hip bones protruded significantly, I liked that. But I thought my stomach was still horribly fat, despite it being concave. My sharp defined bones, I was aware, but believed them to be covered in layers of thick, disgusting fat. Of which, was really just skin. I would then take a few deep breaths and prepare myself for the scale of self worth, of self esteem, of my mood, of everything. I'd step on, look down at the number. Honestly, most of the time I had lost weight, because I barely ate. But it was never enough. Occasionally I'd lose enough to bring me some satisfaction but really, it was never good enough. Once that was done, I would shower. I remember this being a very difficult task due to my low energy levels and showering made me more dizzy. I would have breakfast, which was a 66 calorie yogurt. I would eat it in teaspoonfuls, it usually took me up to an hour to finish it. Then I would force myself to exercise until I felt like I was going to faint. By lunch time, no lunch for me! I would drink 250mL of diet coke. Then at 3pm, (afternoon being the most vulnerable to binging) I would have a 7 cal sugar free jelly, which was enough to prevent me from losing control. Afternoons were the worst, the hunger pains, the cravings. It was fucking hard getting through them. I would then go to bed at 5pm. Yes, 5pm. I would get into my pajamas, turn my light off and close my eyes. It took hours until I eventually fell asleep. Occasionally my mother would come in, encouraging me to eat something, I would say no. I was drained of energy, my emotions were limited. My main focus was making it through the night, because at night that's when the thoughts set in. The thoughts of food. Sometimes it would be so overwhelming that I would just look through my hoards of recipes, thinking that I'm going to make them, but no, you never make them, you just look at the pictures, pretending it's real, it's just as good as eating, it fills you up, decreases cravings. I would try to sleep but it was fucking hard when your mind is obsessing over food. Eventually I would though, and the next morning, another day, I'd weigh myself and start all over again. I took drugs a few times a week, I would smoke to decrease cravings, never ever drank alcohol during this time. Occasionally I would binge. And I don't mean just a piece of cake, a few cookies and some ice-cream. I mean, full on binge. After long periods of starvation, your body overtakes your mind, and literally forces you to eat and eat, and eat. The kitchen was a scary place. I had to be very careful at the kitchen. The pantries, full of cereal, crackers, biscuits, all sorts of things. The fridge was even more scary. I had high levels of anxiety while in the kitchen, thus tried to avoid it at all costs and only went in there when necessary. Sometimes, when I was home alone, I would go down to the nearby shops, and spend up to $100 on food, usually it was cookies, ice-cream, donuts, pastries, cakes, muffins, pizzas, chocolate. I'd go home, be in my room and start eating, I felt numb while I was eating. No emotion. It was in a robotic way, a mechanical way. Just open mouth, chew, swallow. There was nothing enjoyable about it. Once I was full, I would purge, then continue, then purge, then eat, then purge, then eat. I would usually purge at least 15 times in one of these binge sessions. Once all the food had been consumed, I would then have to get rid of all evidence ,thinking if anyone found out what a greedy fat pig I was that the world would end. I knew I had purged it all out once I began coughing blood and throwing up stomach acid and bits of blood. Then I'd take 25 laxatives, or 35. Depending on how I felt. I'd swallow them all at once, the tiny little pills. These binge and purge sessions usually left me feeling like shit, wanting to kill myself, and dehydrated and sick. There was a point during my eating disorder where I did this everyday for about 4 months straight. Starve by day, binge and purge by night. It was hell.

An eating disorder is hell. Nowadays when I see young girls, just starting to develop the first signs, I go out of my way to stop them. I just want to scream and cry and say "please, don't go down this path of self destruction". Anyone who's ever had or still has an eating disorder knows how it feels. How you just want to die, how you hate yourself. The self loathing is so strong that it cannot be expressed in words. The starving, binging, purging, laxative abuse, and for some, drug abuse.

Here are some pictures of me back then, about 2 years ago..
 Warning: May be triggering.

This isn't beauty, I don't look good at all. Hospitalization number #3.

some other time in hospital

my IV stand

When I look back on these, I don't quite know how I feel. I want to erase the memories. One of the most amazing, raw and truthful books I've read has been Wasted, by Marya Hornbacher. Although I do warn, can be very triggering. It's best to read it once you're in a good mindset, mostly recovered and not at risk of relapsing. It sums it up excellently. Just what it's like to have an eating disorder. To be in hospital, mental hospitals, as well as medical. I don't have the answer to recovery. I'm probably 80% recovered. Still have a bit to go, but I'm stable and I am over the main part of it. I don't think I'll ever go down that road again, because it caused me nothing but misery and medical problems. If you are suffering from an eating disorder, get help before it's too late, before it kills you, and it will and can kill you.