I am starting to hate existing less.
A thought that at one point seemed unfathomable.
“I will always wish for the blood to stop coursing through my veins.”
I remember how that thought sat in my brain; how I let it eat at me.
I screamed, I yelled, I kicked.
“I will always pray to be six feet under the ground.”
I blew out the candles for my eighteenth birthday.
Why does life have to be so long?
I etched lines into my skin.
I carved mountains and rivers and valleys and dunes.
I made art where there was none.
I painted pictures of what I wanted to see, what I thought should be there.
I sculpted a person as hard as rock.
I used tools as sharp as steel.
I only knew how to destroy.
I forgot how to build.
Plastered on smiles,
Words like swords,
I feigned rays of sunshine
Whilst throwing myself in a thousand different directions.
Anything to make you want me.
Anything to make me care.
I am staring to hate existing less.
Today I am an existentialist.
Tomorrow a Buddhist.
I am both sinner and saint.
I do not know how.
Uncertainty is nothing new.
“I am whimsical,” I say to you.
As you try to strip me of my wings.
But I want nothing tying me down.
You don’t know how it is to live without gravity.
You do not understand.
You could not understand.
Self destruction is
the only way I stay alive.
There are magic stones
that make me not fear.
I am in a prison of my own security.
I am well versed in the act of nonexistence.
This I can do well.
I may not know how to live,
but I know how to die.
I need it, I crave it.
I have the world at my fingertips and I toss it to the ground.
“Not this life,” I say.
As if I can pick and choose when consciousness is worth it.
This skill is not only learned,
It is taught.
I am a byproduct of passive aggressive.
A reminder of your mistakes.
Too much, too much, too much.
“Yes, I accept your pleas,”
I say to the world.
I will make myself small.
I will shrink into nothing.
I wait for the day for the sun to rise.
I long for the day to slay my dragons with a shining blade of steel.
It does not come.
This time I am quiet.
This time I stop asking
and I wait for my soul to speak.
I am not patient,
But I don’t have the will to fight.
Tenacity only got me so far.
And it is in the silence
Where I found the strength to let it in.
As smooth as a wind,
I let it come inside of me.
And this time I will allow
it to be true.
It is in the silence
that I find my salvation.
I am starved and bruised and hollow
But I know I am not done.
This whisper is my battle cry.
I will wait for my voice to catch up.
I will sing it from mountain tops.
I will soon say it-
Those magic words:
“I am stating to hate existing less.”
And I will mean it.
Why don't you want to post the behaviors you still struggle with? (Ed wise)
Because I see absolutely nothing positive coming from positing them. I don’t know why I used to post personal things (especially eating-related things due to the competitive nature of the disorder). Anyone can just as easily write the behaviors in a journal, or talk to a professional if they have that available to them. I understand the view of the whole it’s-my-blog-I-post-what-I-want, and by all means do. But I’m questioning why. Posting SPECIFIC caloric intakes, or exercise can essentially only do two things:
- Potentially lead others to have concern for how you are doing, which can be innocent enough- but even so the concern would be based off of the specific behaviors shared (essentially their severity) and I personally don’t want “support” based off of how “severe” things sound.
- Offer the means for online validation that you have a “problem” and in a way is showing off what’s going on- intentionally or unintentionally. Eating disorders especially are competitive by nature and sharing information that will no doubt be triggering to at least one person, is in my opinion naive, and selfish because even for your ~own purposes~ you can easily write that information down in your own private way if you want to “remember it” OR if you feel the burning desire to share what’s happening there’s no need for specific numbers and details etc.
I’m not attacking anyone by any means what so ever, and I’m not trying to tell anyone what do to. I’m just questioning the reasoning behind people who choose to participate in this, and I’m sharing with you so that you understand why I choose not to anymore. I used to a lot, but now every time I post something, I ask myself the “Why am I choosing to post this?” and “What benefit OR detriment will this have to me or others?” (the answer for the reason behind could be as simple as- because it’s funny, or it makes my blog look nice it or whatever, which is a good enough reason as any). BUT if the answer in my head is a disordered one, I save the post as a draft, or just flat out delete it.
10 BETTER BODY AFFIRMATIONS FOR YOUNG WOMEN
1. Your body is in flux for the rest of your life. Think of your body as fluid instead of static — it’s always going to change. So get comfortable with those changes.
2. No one will love you or not love you because of your body. You are lovable because you’re you, not because your body looks a certain way.
3. The most intensely personal relationship you’ll ever have is with your body. It’s a lifelong relationship that’s well worth investing in and nurturing the same way you would with loved ones.
4. You don’t owe your body to anyone. Not sexually, not aesthetically. Your body is yours. Period.
5. What someone else says about your body says more about them than it does about you. Look past the actual snark to the person who’s saying it, because it’s only a reflection of what they think of themselves. That’s when you’ll see how little power their words have.
6. Your body is not a reflection of your character. It’s a physical home for the complex and wondrous and unique being that is you.
7. Take up as much space as you want. You don’t have to be small, or quiet, or docile, regardless of your physical size.
8. Everything you need to accept your body is already inside you. There’s no book, or diet, or workout routine or external affirmation that you need to feel good about your body right now.
9. Your body is a priority. It’s always trying to tell you things. Taking the time to listen to is of the utmost importance.
10. Wear whatever you want. Your body shape does not dictate your personal style, and fashion rules that say otherwise are wrong. Dress yourself in a way that makes you feel happy and confident and beautiful, because guess what? You are.
Every once in a while, I like to take a look over the last three years & appreciate just how far I’ve come. Whilst there’s always room for debate in terms of whether or not it is possible to fully recover from an eating disorder (some believe that it’s something to be managed for the rest of your life, and others believe that leaving your ED behind forever is possible for everyone), I know in my heart that I’ve well and truly let my eating disorder go, and that I’m all the better for it.
Notice the language there; I’ve let my eating disorder go, not “my eating disorder eased its grip on me” (or something similar). Two of the most important things I realised during my recovery process were that a) my recovery was in my hands, and b) that I was not helpless. I realised that I needed to take a deep breath and start tackling my fears and anxieties head on, rather than sit around all day and do research and write diet plans for myself and plan the “perfect” recovery, yadda yadda yadda. No therapist had ever told me this (if anything, my therapists were of the “count your calories and weigh yourself religiously” variety); it was something I had to work out by myself. I had to really, really learn to let it all go.
It’s very important to keep asking yourself the following two questions: "Why does this matter?" and "What am I afraid of?". Ask yourself these whenever you feel the slightest tinge of eating-disordered compulsive-anxiety panic coming on; ask yourself these until you’re blue in the face. Eventually, you will stumble across an uncomfortable truth, and that’s what you need to deal with long-term and manage for the rest of your life - not your weight or your calorie intake, believe me.
Every single morning, same time, same place
I would eat my dry Weetabix
Never toast, never eggs, never milk.
Isolated, lonely, cold
As my spoon dug deeper
Into the dry shards of my dry, cold Weetabix.
Even on Christmas morning
When the house was filled with laughter and smiles and excitement and hot, buttery pastries
I kept on digging, I kept on swallowing
I couldn’t join in
I couldn’t live.
And to have told anyone- ‘milk scares me, breakfast scares me, food scares me’- was unthinkable
They wouldn’t understand
They’d think I was crazy
Maybe I was
So instead I’d continue
Restricting and avoiding and dodging
Complimented on my figure and my willpower and my self-control
How do you do it? They asked
If only they knew
It took years before I decided
That living this life was not living
And I took a deep breath and I took my spoon and I forced myself to eat, every bite a battle
But a battle I am winning
And I am joining in
And I am living.
And now, every morning as I pick up my spoon
I think of all the things I’ve missed out on
Like dancing and restaurants and travelling and exploring and skinny dipping and being wild and crazy and free and young
And I look at my milky Weetabix or toast or eggs or porridge or crumpets or muffin or fruit or yoghurt or WHATEVER
And I eat.
For years, I’ve helped people learn to eat normally. Now I can help even more by becoming a Registered Dietitian.
Michelle (@fatnutritionist) is raising money so she can become a registered dietitian.
Please support / share.
Michelle is fantastic. I’ve talked with her before and dear God, that woman is just so selfless and so, so helpful. I’ll definitely be donating.