the significance of may

During the month of May last year quite a few things happened. I did quite a few things. The 'anniversaries' (for lack of a better word) of these things haven't been easy to deal with. Around this time last year was when my close friend attacked me. Around this time last year was when my sister spent days in intensive care after nearly dying in a car accident. Around this time last year was when I fell off the deep end. Around this time last year was when I fell off the planet. Or at least, tried very hard to.

But alas, I'm here. And it's an unnerving thought that if I'd have had my way this time last year, I would be. Hmm. I thought I would be much further along in my recovery by now. But, alas, here I am. Still huge. Still sad. Still not finishing the things I start. Still self sabotaging. Still self loathing. And still, I'm a million times better than I was. My mind right now is a far, far nicer place to be than it was twelve months ago. I don't want to give up on myself anymore.
I'm still determined to keep forging forward, no matter how slow. 'It does not matter how slow you go, so long as you do not stop' as they say.

Ironically, I ended up in hospital again this May - but not for even a remotely similar reason to last years visit. This time it wasn't intentional... I was very very ill and was taken to emergency due to a raging temperature and delirium.  Turns out I had viral meningitis. (Lumbar punctures are painful, by the way) Let that sickness add to the suckiness of the infamous month of May and needless to say it has been a horrendous few weeks. And, there's still a week left. I'm just going to have to put my head down and get it over and done with. I don't think I'll ever like May, and I suppose that's something I'm going to have to deal with. But I can make myself really love June, and have June's triumphs cancel out all of May's downfalls.

I look forward to June.

current favourite thinspo no. 1

Winona Ryder screen capture from Girl, Interrupted

For a very long time Girl, Interrupted has been one of my favourite films. I saw this picture come up on my dash the other day on Tumblr and instantly fell in love with it - it is a screen capture of one of the most beautiful women in the world, doing one of my favourite things, with a hairstyle I'd die for. What could be more inspiring than simply that? Doing the everyday things we do, but just...doing them thinner. I remember how it used to feel to be uncomfortable lying on bed because my hip bones dug into the mattress. I miss it. I want it back. 

image source

the aformentioned affirmation

This is me. This is my body I have now, but it is not the body I am going to have forever. But it is me - that is something I need to accept in order for this to work. No more disassociation, no more denial, no more blocking it out with mind-altering substances.

I don’t want to ever forget the way this feels - uncomfortable, unattractive, disappointing, bleak. I am too young to feel this way.

I am too young to be this unhealthy, this unhappy. I make things too hard for myself, and I struggle too hard for what I need to do. There is no need to purge, starve, binge, purge, starve, binge, binge, binge - obviously it is getting me nowhere if I have been repeating these behaviors over and over for 5 years. In those 5 years, I can only pinpoint a dozen or so months that I was actually happy...for 5 years this constant battle has kept me from living my life. I have been a prisoner to my eating disorder. Those few months I can remember being happy, I remember being happy because I felt relatively comfortable with the way my body looked - I only felt happy because my eating disorder allowed me to feel happy. It has not allowed me to feel what I want to feel, do what I want to do, for the majority of my teen years. My eating disorder has stopped me from concentrating on and being passionate about anything else. It paralyzed my passion for writing, for learning, for being around friends, for jogging, for playing netball. It paralyzed my ability to show passion towards other people - boyfriends, friends. I did not want anybody to get too close to me, to get close enough to see what was hiding underneath this bloated form - which I feared was nothing anymore. My eating disorder robbed me of my sense of self. I may be speaking in past tense, but this is not past tense. Not yet. I am amazing myself with how the words are just flowing onto the page as I write this, they seem to be pouring out of me with little to no conscious thought behind them... most of the time I find it difficult to string a sentence together because I am distracted by thousands of different stimuli sent to my brain by the eating disorder sitting on my shoulder, weighing me down... he is making me mindful of the waistband in my pants. He is forcing me to calculate calories, sums, BMIs, compare, contrast, always scrutinizing, always criticizing, never quietening down. He creates so much noise in my mind that there is little to no room for anything else. His demands, his commentary has become a fixture in my everyday life. It doesn’t feel unnatural...but that is exactly what it is. My eating disorder was not created by nature; he was created by me. He is mine, I am not his. I do not belong to him. He belongs to me, and it is up to me to disown him. Every time he tells me to feed him, gorge him, saying it will be okay because I can purge it later, I will refuse. Every time he asks me to lie to protect him for now, and tells me he will save me later by giving me the strength to starve myself skinny...I will refuse. I will refuse, I will refuse, I will refuse. He is a slick liar, full of false promises. In the past his promises may have been true - I did lose weight after I stopped eating for a fortnight, I did feel lighter after purging dinner, I did stop feeling hungry after I scratched at the skin on my finger until I bled. But these promises are past, their results are past, and they only worked for the me of the past - a younger me, a more naive me who did not realize how unreliable my Ed was. Ed is flighty. Ed comes and goes at his leisure, mucking up my plans and disturbing my life. He appears at the times when I want him around least. Lately he has been appearing less frequently as he used to, and as time goes on I expect his visits to get further and further apart until he stops showing altogether. He will get the message that he is an unwelcome guest. And with no one left to harass, belittle, torture and goad, his purpose will disappear, and so will he. I will be the only person who I need to listen to when it comes to food, when it comes to how I see myself and what I am going to do next. I see myself in a positive light. I see myself as someone who is valuable. I have value. I am caring, I am a listener, I am a joker, I am a scholar, I am an imaginer, I am passionate, I am friendly, open minded and non judgmental. I love things, and I am capable of receiving love. I am worthy of receiving love. I have worth. I am deserving of a healthy, productive and rewarding life filled with rewarding, loving relationships and wonderful adventures. I am not destined to be locked up in my dark house with only Ed for company. I am destined to be an active participant in life - I have much to give, and I am ready to receive everything life has to offer. I am prepared to battle the hard times in order to get to easier times, and ultimately... happy, content, great times.

like second nature

I spent three hours today mulling over the 'ED Affirmation' my psychiatrist has asked me to write. I am supposed to separate myself in two - the 'disordered' me, and the 'actual' me, and have a 'conversation' with my disordered self, asserting why I am separate and why my disorder is of no use to me anymore, so I should abandon it. I think I might post it in a separate text post...I do mean every last word of it...well, I did while I was writing it. And I do mean it while I am reading it, and for some time after. But once it's left my immediate mind, I don't mean it anymore.
That's the part I'm not telling Joan (psychiatrist). That's the part I'm not telling anyone. The part where Yesterday I only ate 450 calories, and burned off 500. Even though for the 7 days prior I had eaten over 2000. Fuck me, why can't I be consistent? Or, really, fuck my eating disorder; why can't he be consistent (Joan says he's a he, and has a name, - 'Ed')
Well, if you're going to insist on sticking around, Ed, then why the hell can't you be of some use to me? Why can't you make me restrict for a change, like you used to, rather than stuffing myself and then forcing me to spend the next hour heaving in the shower? And if you're not going to allow me to talk about you completely openly to Joan, then why can't we work together for a change? Give me a reason to keep protecting you, or I'm giving you up.

I am giving myself a week. A week to not go to extremes, to keep moderate. I am not going to let Ed take control, but then again...I am not going to let him go, either. Starting today, I am no longer a binge monster. I am going to be clean and free. I have a plan, and I will post that later too, I think... but for now, I'm going for another run.

Sooner or later a healthy lifestyle will be like second nature, and that is what I am for.

number one, may one.

I have a tumblr, which I use for posting pictures...mainly thinspiration (click to see it), but I am not really a picture-posting person at heart, I am more posting the thousand-words-that-the-picture-is-worth kind of person. And so, this is, kind of, an extension of a personal journal - except with the added accountability of it being on the world wide web... although there is little to no probability of someone reading my posts, that doesn't make it feel any less revealing as I'm sure any person who has made a blog knows. I am going to try and avoid copy-pasting as little as I can from outside sources,  although if anything is posted on this blog that is not mine I will endeavour to guarantee its proper source is credited.