recovery...

recovery…

the lady is trying recovery. it really kind of inspired me to try too. i hate being this way. i hate counting every calorie of every bite i take. i hate that the idea of a meal with friends enduces panic attacks. i hate that if i gain a tenth of a pound i burst into tears and spend hours in front of a mirror trying to figure out where the fat developed. i hate the constant stream of voices telling me i’m fat and ugly. i hate the never ending list of numbers in my head: calories, bites, fat content, grams of sugar, hours of fasting, minutes of exercise, calories burned, goal weight, current weight, how many pounds between goal weight and current weight, how many minutes of exercise or hours of fasting needed to burn the calories i injested. they’re always there in my head. always. and they’re so loud. it’s so distracting. i can’t focus on anything else. it gives me a headache.

so i want to try. to be better. to be healthy.

but it’s hard. really hard. i have ednos and so i have a tendency to go both ways with my eating habits. when i allow myself to eat i usually go crazy and bingebingebinge. i’ll counteract it with a fast or exercise or purging. but if i’m going to be “in recovery” i can’t do those things. so it’s hard… i tell myself, “go to dinner. it’s okay. it’s normal and healthy.” but then i eat way more than is normal or necessary. and i want to run take care of it but i can’t do that. so i just hear the voices and number screaming at me in my mind over and over getting louder and louder and i can’t shut them up.

i swear that the second you decide to fight back they just get louder. i’ve only been at this for two days and have already had just as many complete breakdowns over everything. last night it took the lady like an hour to calm me down and bring me back to reality and out of my head.

i want to shut it up. i want to shut them all up. if i stop eating againn they’d get quiter… and maybe leave me alone…