I’m currently in bed… lazy Ella at her finest. Except I’m not counting this as laziness… I’m counting this as an attempt to recover from a tough day of putting my body through hell!
I binged bad yesterday, despite blogging about not wanting too, talking to myself, begging and pleading with myself and even going for a really long walk around a really lovely local park. Yet a spectacular binging episode still happened and the self-loathing, loss of control, feelings of worthlessness and hate have firmly and successfully positioned themselves at the forefront of my mind. Yay.
Writing about it means I should have perfect control right? I wish! I hate this. I hate not being able to stop thinking about food, I hate how it makes me feel. I hate that as soon as I’ve finished eating immediately I think about the damage I’ve done to my body, my mind and to myself. Food is bad, food is scary, yet I can’t leave it alone. I’m desperate to stop, I’m desperate to learn how to eat normally, and I am ridiculously ashamed of myself. And secretly I’m hoping that nobody reads this as man this is personal stuff. But – I’m trying to make myself open to change, and I’m also trying to make myself aware of what I’m battling.
Ultimately I know that I am the only one who can get me out of this battle – but I shall accept the support I am being offered, as I am incredibly grateful for the understanding and empathy I’ve received from those in my support network.
Eating for me is such a personal, shameful, terrifying, pleasurable, awful, crazy experience… and I know that just simply opening up about this is a step in the right direction. (I hope!)