I think I'm in love. I don't hate myself anymore. I fucking love myself. Or rather, I'm learning to. Someone loves me and I believe them, I don't try and talk them out of it, I don't question why they love me, why they care about me, why they can't get enough of talking to me or why they think I'm attractive. I don't question those things because I let him believe those things and I believe those things so it makes them true. He doesn't know about my disordered eating and I don't want him to know, not yet. Not until I lose a little more weight. I say "disordered eating" now because I don't really think I have an eating disorder anymore. I don't have it in me to hate myself enough to perpetuate this illness any longer. It faded away, enormously. But it's not GONE. It's now just a part of my life rather than being my whole life. But it's a big enough part that even when I'm writing about how in love I am, talk of the ED is still intertwined. It can't go away completely. But I want it gone. But only after I lose a little more weight. I'm triggered so easily it's ridiculous. Oh my god, it's fucking ridiculous. I just want to have this for a little while longer, isn't that okay? Isn't it okay that I'm not ready to give up just yet? It can't get that bad because now I love myself and I don't want to hurt myself anymore. But I need to do this just a little longer. Maybe a month, or two. Then I can recover, officially.

But I'm just so afraid that if I let myself do this again, if I let myself fall into this that I may fall too deeply and ruin this. Ana would kill every relationship I have if I let her. And I love this boy. And what fucking baffles me the most about all of this is that it's a healthy love. It's not obsessive and it's not poisonous. It is healthy, supportive, beautiful love. My first love. I'm in a very happy place, a very special time of my life and I don't even think I'll be able to realize the full scope of how epic it is for another few years. But I love being like this. I'm happy. I love myself. I fucking love myself. I love this boy. He loves me. But there's this little whisper of a voice that hisses don't eat...

So... I haven't been eating much lately because I've been too happy and excited. But the not eating, regardless of the reason, perpetuates itself, and it's starting to make me unhappy...

two apples salad diet coke phone sex no sleep everyone thinks you're crazy because you are.

I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I just don't know.
Fast fast fast fast fast fast fast fast fast because I literally DON'T KNOW how to live without being miserable, and not being miserable makes me miserable...

Trigger

I know a girl who's anorexic. Or rather, she must be very, very close to being one. I can tell by the lack of life behind her eyes... okay among other things. She just posted a picture of a girl with an extremely noticeable spine/ribcage, and captioned it "This hair color is perfect." Okay, yeah. And it was linked back to three obviously pro-ana blogs. What's weirder is that then I realized that after those blogs, the girl had actually reblogged it from a DIFFERENT girl I know, which raises all kinds of questions about that girl, too.

My point?
I just got triggered, bad. I saw it and immediately something clicked on. While I've been slipping slightly back into my disordered ways (did I ever stop?) I thought the whole thinspo/online social networking part of it would never come back... but then I saw that picture, immediately started browsing the linked thinspo blogs, got onto the PrettyThin message board and after doing that in less than a minute also decided that the way to solve all of my problems is by eating carrots and ONLY carrots.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is...
I'm back. I secretly did want to get better, was trying to, maybe did a little sorta.
But that sucked. I just replaced this obsession with other ones. And honestly, I prefer this one.
Expect many more posts and comments from me in the future. : )

I guess now is just a really convenient time to fall into a cycle of wild self-destruction

I cry and cry because I'm so lonely. I'm sick of crying at the slightest thing. Is it better to feel or not to feel? You know what I'm getting at. Should I let myself slip back into this sick world in order to numb myself, make myself oblivious to everything? It's weird because when you're starving you think you feel everything violently, but you go back to normal for a while and realize you weren't feeling anything at all... not really...

I can't pretend I decide to go in or out of health. It happens before I know it. I'm wavering without realizing. The more I actually think about it, the more I realize that this notion I've gotten on, the idea that I'm actually better, is a load of bullshit. Do I get hungry, want to eat, but can't? Do I walk around campus gazing longingly at all the restaurants telling myself it's OKAY to eat, I promise you're ALLOWED to do it, and I finish out the day hungry and exhausted? Do I open the fridge with intentions of eating but I'm too scared to touch anything? Am I terrified of certain foods, do I think they're dirty, impure, evil, dangerous? Do I find myself drawn to the grocery store, only to pace around forever, leaving with nothing but a diet coke and some random item? Do I groan in public, my head in my hands, grabbing at my hair, overwhelmed with anxiety any time I try and spend any amount of money because it feels so horribly like binging? I do, I do, I do.

Do I eat normally sometimes?
I do.

Do I overeat sometimes?
I do.

Do I binge?
I'm beginning to. But it's more like "Oh my god I can't believe I just ate a can of soup AND A PEACH AND A GRANOLA BAR!" which is... considerably less than my binge-mode binges but still unacceptable.

And is this unacceptable?
Maybe that's what a normal meal looks like!?
How the fuck am I supposed to know!?
Whoever fucking taught me what normal was!?

Am I eating normally?
Am I getting better?
Why should it matter?
Maybe my eating habits are getting more normal. Maybe they were normal for a little while just after I moved and then they slipped back into abnormality... I don't know. But I don't live completely immersed in this disorder any longer, which may be perceived as a good thing... but in its place, other things have manifested themselves to make me miserable. Recklessness, irresponsibility, the affinity for sleeping 16 hours a day just so I don't have to deal with people... violent perpetual tears... anxiety that keeps me up until ungodly hours of the morning... the tendency to isolate, to stay in my room all day. Today I built a sheet fort in my closet to keep things dark, so I can isolate even more. Awful social anxiety. Loneliness that's even worse. A desire to cut that I talk myself out of nightly. No desire to go to school. Only to stay cozy and safe in the small world I have created for myself in my bedroom. No friends. No identity. No life. I can deal with all of this, I know, just get out more, be more outgoing... but the fucking PHYSICAL anxiety I can't do ANYTHING about. It's so much easier to push all of my anxiety towards eating, so it's a filter, so it'll be the only think I ever get anxious about, on the surface at least. And that's considerably EASY to deal with. No food? No anxiety. Just don't eat.

...and the vicious cycle begins again.
This is almost funny.