"1 in 5 of people diagnosed with AN will die prematurely due to complications of the disease (including suicide)."
This statistic makes me want to sob and bang my head against the wall and repeat a million times over. It hurts so much. I don’t want my friends to die. Please keep fighting.
Pretty sure I’m going to be marked against on one of the question’s on yesterday’s Women’s Studies quiz but I really don’t think Becky Thompson, author of “a hunger so deep and so wide”, meant to say that food was the BEST coping mechanism for dealing with trauma. That misinterpretation doesn’t fly with me, not at all.
A’ight, ignore my awkward face. I can’t believe I just uploaded two videos onto Youtube of me singing. Spur-of-the-moment? Hell yes.
Yeah. Um, the song is Beauty from Pain by Superchick.
I am the fucking luckiest duck alive. So, today the formidable woman I call my primary therapist couldn’t make it to my therapy appointment due to reasons I won’t mention here, and I instead just saw my other…counselor? I don’t know what to call him anymore. Anyway, he’s the empathetic, no-bullshit but in a good way guy.
Bad news: I lost a significant amount of weight over the two week period. My BMI is lower than it has been in over a year and a half. Certainly not the lowest I’ve been, but it’s not where it’s supposed to be. To make it clear, I was NOT expecting this. I was expecting a pound or two lost at most, but…well, today was a surprise. My “counselor” was less surprised than I was. However, I am not counting this as a relapse because I wasn’t necessarily trying to lose weight and I didn’t restrict as much as I would have otherwise.
Good news: Because he’s a good guy and because my primary therapist is distracted, he’s not going to tell her unless she specifically asks AS LONG AS I gain weight by our next appointment on Monday. Yes, it will be water and sodium weight, but I need to be okay with that and do what I need to to get there. I know if my primary therapist would have been there today, I could be in the hospital by now. She tends to overreact, in my opinion.
So, yeah. That’s the update. It’s going to be fucking hard and I’m probably going to cry like a wee baby, but I’m going to do it. School, school, school. I want to go to school in the fall, but I have to keep up my end of the deal.
- Manic Street Preachers
So, I don’t know why exactly, but I have this terrible urge to purge. I don’t want to keep my lunch down, and even though my sister is downstairs, I know I could go upstairs to do the dirty deed.
Reasons not to purge:
That awkward moment when you think you have abs, but with a closer look you realize it’s just your ribs.
Amazingly enough, I was kind of disappointed…
before ED kicked in again.
I can never say anything around them.
"I can’t do it"
"Yes you can"
"It’s not that easy"
You just say "yes”. You just say “no”. You "just do it".
And I know it’s that easy (don’t even bother denying it) but it’s still hard, if you know what I mean. I
can’t won’t make the decision to “just do it”. Whether it is body acceptance or giving in to recovery, it’s not that I can’t make the decision; I won’t.
That’s what makes this so difficult. It’s not that I can’t do any of this, because I know it is physically possible. I just won’t do it. Or I am technically right now, but I don’t want to. Not for me. I don’t deserve it, I know I don’t. And I don’t want to deserve it either.
- Courage - Superchick
I can want to cry and need to cry all I want, but that doesn’t mean the tears are going to come.
It all just kills you sometimes, you know? All the feelings felt, all the things that have happened…and I’m still considered a youngster. No wonder I don’t want to get older.