I appear to be going through the motions of my recovery and today came to a point of both contention and frustration, this being that I am going through the motions of recovery with regards to eating on a regular basis, but in all honesty I am no further forwards in my head and way of thinking than this time last year at the beginning of my relapse.
Don't get me wrong I am trying, Jesus I am really trying, but there is a big part of me that does NOT want to get better. Because getting better means not losing any more weight. Which means not being small. Which means not being special or interesting or loved.
I am moving forwards in that I am getting a good grip on my albeit part time work life. I am feeling better physically, which is a good thing.
But I am still stuck in my head on the deep seated desire to lose that last stone. Just one more stone. I know I will be happy if I do this. But this means risking everything that I am currently working for.
I am hurting the people closest to me. I am really hurting my mum and my guilt is almost unbearable when I think about all the people who care about me, and all the people who are "worse off" than I am.
But that guilt is fuelling my eating disorder further and further. It's like I am stuck in a vicious cycle going round and round and round and round..
Like a kind of sick fairground ride.
From Under the Ivy Tree: Snippets of confusion from a life more ordinary
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