Sleepless nights that aren’t so sleepless anymore.
Night time Demons visiting less and less.
Still there. Still lurking. Still creeping around but maybe I’m stronger now.
Strong enough to read my ‘recovery book’ with all the steps I know I need to follow.
The steps my therapist trusts me to follow without the need for him to tell me to.
The book with all my little tips I know help make me stronger.
But when I’m not battling the night-time-Demon I’ve got the one that visits each day.
The one that taunts and tells me one more time.
One more meal.
Miss one more meal.
Push until lunch, until dinner, until bedtime, until morning.
Push on through the hunger.
And if I’m strong enough to ignore those demands it starts a new line of attack.
One more purge.
One more bathroom visit.
Just do it now, and do it later and once again before bed.
Push on and get rid of it.
Such a happy year so far and I’m desperate to not let anything ruin just how happy I feel right now. I want to be strong enough to stop this.
And the affliction with the scales is forever the worst. A mix of fear yet desperation to know that irrelevant number. Thinking it’ll give me the control I crave when I know it doesn’t.
Taking myself back to basics.
The Demon says I’m weak for it but I know I’m not.
Fishing out my old flashcards I’d look at in stages of panic.
Drawing out diagrams to work through the mix of emotions to reach an action plan.
Allowing myself time and space to heal.
To become strong again.
Even sending pictures of my meals to him so he knows I’ve at least made food. Won’t know if I’ve eaten it but I know that he’s trusting me to. Someone genuinely caring if I’ve eaten. Wanting to know, chasing me up if I haven’t sent a picture and I simply can’t lie and tell him that I’ve eaten when I know I haven’t.
I remember a dark day where I went for help and the reply was ‘I know you’ve not been eating/purging for 4 weeks but I’m not going to come to you and ask about it, gotta do it yourself.’
That response made me feel so weak – but then again, if I knew a friend/boyfriend was in trouble, would I wait for them to come to me? No.
I wasn’t weak in that situation.
I just wasn’t supported.
And yet, I thought I was the problem. I thought things were bad because I wasn’t a good enough girl for him which made me try even harder rather than walking.
But that’s in the past.
And I’m stronger for it.
Everyone tells me how strong I am.
Yet there’s day’s I believe it and days I don’t.
And I feel stronger simply because they trust me. He’s trusting me to eat. They’re all trusting me to eat. I just need to trust myself.
Trust myself that three healthy meals won’t make me gain weight.
Trust myself to balance eating and exercise in a healthy way.
Trust myself to avoid the urges.
Trust myself to put away the scales.
Because they trust me, I start to trust myself.
Trust myself that I’m strong enough because if my entire life is anything to go by…I know I am.