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Nurse R

I really miss James.

There, I said it.
He was one of the few people that knew about me. He was one of the few people I could tell.

Well, it's lost now, what can I do... it taught me never to tell people.

It makes me very sad in a way, because I know I could never have a good relationship that worked with a guy. I'd make him so miserable. I feel incredibly sorry for any man that would truly love me, for I would just treat him like crap and push him out of my life. The truth is, I don't think I could live with anyone. I love being able to come back to my flat, take off my restrictive clothing, wash off all the makeup and remove all the pins from my hair and just be myself as I am naturally. I do love that... but only so long as nobody can see me. There is no way that I would ever let any guy that I was dating see me in such a state - so how on earth could I live with them, or even marry them! The idea is horrifying to me.

What I really don't get is a guy that would love me 'for who I really am'. No, any guy that loved me for who I really am would have to be crazier than I am, and lets face it, crazy isn't sexy. If a guy were to see me naked and without makeup and still love me, yeah, I'm sorry, that would freak me out - he'd clearly be either completely insane, blind or just plain desperate.

Soooo I have booked an appointment to see my Eating Disorders nurse on Tuesday.
I've been at home in London for the past week (due to a complete breakdown in the days before and following my last post) and as a result of being at home, the old binging and purging has sky-rocketed again. (At uni I don't keep any food in my flat so it's impossible to binge unless I go to the shops, and once I get inside a supermarket I always go into uber obsessive mode, pacing up and down the aisles, looking at every packet for calories, pace up and down some more, and then leave empty handed. - Anyone watching me on CCTV must think I'm either a thief or just escaped from a mental hospital.)
Anyway, yeah, following the standard binging on whole loaves of bread/boxes of cereal, throwing up and repeating the process over and over again, I decided that I needed to give it up and go back to eating three meals a day like normal people (cos this binge-eating was giving me the wobbly belly from hell!) Erm... but three meals a day?! Really?! I'd rather be Ana... and going to the eating disorders nurse may help me lose Mia, but isn't going to help me get back Ana.

My resolution: Prove that I do not binge until Tuesday. Get back Ana. Cancel the appointment with the nurse - I hate that woman - it seems like every conversation we have is about how curvy is beautiful - Fucking hell IT IS NOT! I just need to lose the binge and purge on my own and get back control to restrict properly again.


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"Here I am, sane and dry"

"I stayed there, staring at myself in the glass. What do I want to cry about?.... On the contrary, it's when l am quite sane like this, when I have had a couple of extra drinks and am quite sane, that I realize how lucky I am.
Saved, rescued, fished-up, half drowned, out of the deep, dark river, dry clothes, hair shampooed and set. Nobody would know I had ever been in it. Except, of course, that there always remains something. Yes, there always remains something....Never mind, here I am, sane and dry, with my place to hide in. What more do I want?....I'm a bit of an automaton, but sane, surely - dry, cold and sane. Now I have forgotten about dark streets, dark rivers, the pain, the struggle and the drowning...."
Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight

Love. Sick.

And finally, today, I cried; soaked the tissues and pillowcase like I had been longing to do for weeks. The most I had been able to manage recently had been dry crying with a scrunched up face and aching heart. Such relief now to be able to physically release emotions other than vomit.

What words do I use to write about the last few weeks? Crippling, torturous anxiety, studying for finance exams, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting, seeing Gareth, fucking Gareth, hating Gareth, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting. Overcome by the fear and confusion and heartache. Studying for finance exams, but really just exercising and bingeing and vomiting.

The exams are done now and I have been free from those chains for a week - definitely alleviating a great deal of the pressure from my mental crumbling. I was close to slipping back under into the darkness. The darkness of having complete loss of control, complete loss of everything to the sickness in my brain.
days …


We both knew what we wanted - of that there is absolutely no doubt.
We didn't have to say anything, from the start of the week, right up until the point where I was naked in his bed; we both knew.
About two weeks ago Gareth and a few of our colleagues had arranged to have a night out this Friday. We had a pretty tight knit group of 6 who often lunched together at work, but this was one of the few times we were actually going out together. From Monday Gareth was pestering me like he had before:  "Are you coming out on Friday, are we going out out, are we gonna have a big one..."  "Yes", I had replied, "of course." And I booked my waxing appointment and blowdry for Friday lunch, my mind made up about what I wanted.  I had been thinking what would I regret more; sleeping with him or not sleeping with him. I decided on the latter. I'd not been with anyone since Joe left in January and more than that, thoughts of Gareth were continually running through…