A Head Full of Beauty

I've been dreaming about Alex again. This makes me angry. My dreams keep on suggesting I want him back. I do not. I wish I could turn off my dreams and not have to experience them. I want to start today with a comment from Anonymous (gotta love them) which said "You say the same things over again." Yes. Of course I do. It's called having an eating disorder. What better way to express the hell of this cycle in which it is impossible to escape than with prose that is itself on a cycle. RESTRICT - BINGE - PURGE - CRY - PROMISE TO GET BETTER - RESTRICT - BINGE - PURGE - CRY - PROMISE TO GET BETTER etc etc. I have a message written on my cupboard wall which is still visible if you look closely. It says: This is THE LAST TIME signed by me and dated 11th August 2008. It refers to the last time I will throw up. I've said it everyday since. "I hate that I can't get better," I told my therapist last week. "It's so frustrating. I've wanted ...

So, I have recived this Honesty Award from both Harlow and Flushed  : very touched, thank you :) I've always attributed my brutal honesty to the fact that in my real life and towards real people I have to be so fake. This is the only medium through which I have the freedom to be able to tell everything as it is. As protocol is to give10 facts, and I feel in a 10 facts mood, here are 10 facts: 1. I regularly photoshop my photos on facebook to make myself thinner. 2. Yesterday I threw up three times after eating an uncountable amount of calories. Today I have burnt 500 cals, eaten 1,000 cals in protein/veg/fruit and kept it all down. 3. I'm going to watch Black Swan for the second time on Monday because looking at Natalie Portman's ballet body makes me hyper with the desire to starve. 4. I haven't had sex since I broke up with Alex in August and I'm probably not going to have sex for the whole of 2011. (Watch this space). 5. I miss hot sex. But not as much as...

A low point hits and I have no way to express it. I realise this is the only place where I can cry or scream or speak. I am not a great conversationalist. This is something I have noticed in this job - where I have to sit with people every mealtime, make small talk, engage in conversation, every goddamn day. Sad to say, this is new to me. This is too much. It is this constant requirement to talk that has shown me something interesting: that I internalise pretty much all my thoughts and feelings. I must come across as the most boring and uninteresting person with absolutely no views whatsoever - because I just don't like talking. I can sit and listen. I can nod. I can sympathise. But I can't talk. I'm not a talker. I'll sit and think, I'll write, I'll think some more. But I don't talk about what passes through my thoughts. I just... don't. And this blog was a gift. It gave me the voice I never had - not just to voice my eating disorder and my fears a...