My brain is hazy and my memory is fogged. The days seem to stretch by longer than ever. I do anything to distract myself from the constant food noise and thoughts of binging. Every time I look at myself I count the bones protruding from my chest. My thighs seem to look huge in anything I wear.
I compare myself to people I love, I get envy from my brother’s chest bones, and I fear being anything close to my mother’s size. I can never be the first to finish a plate of food. I need to eat less than anyone around me. I get jealous when I think someone is burning more calories than me, yet I’m way too tired to match them.
I restrict until I can no longer handle the craving. I purge food I’m afraid of. I count calories, and when I don’t I make a subconscious mental note of the numbers. I want to stop but the fear of being a few kilograms heavier, and not lighter keeps me under the spell.
My only passion is losing weight. I’ve forgotten any other point of life, yet food is always in the back of my mind. I can’t imagine having any kind of normal relationship with food in the near future.
My periods are irregular, I need to pee constantly, I have no energy, my hair has lost its health and volume, although I convince myself those issues don’t lie with this disorder.
People around me are starting to notice, and I feel like they are trying to sabotage me. I notice when you add oil or butter to the food. You should know that won’t stop me, I’ll just be more careful.
I will feel guilty about anything I eat. I will feel guilty anytime my stomach isn’t empty. I lie to my psychiatrist about how bad it is. I regret telling her anything at all, because I want to keep restricting.
I will struggle with food every single second of the day, yet I’m still painfully average in size.