& it all starts again...
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FRIENDS ONLY
*comment to be added*
this journal is where i discuss my eating disorder & its place in my life. if that makes you uncomfortable, then you probably shouldn't be here.
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here's some background on it all... some context in which to put my ramblings,
if you wish [warning: it's long story]
i was shy growing up, and i didn't have many friends. i was always far too mature for my age. i often felt like the odd one out in groups, and i couldn't relate to my peers at all. even surrounded by people, i felt so alone. there was always someone more interesting to talk to than me, it seemed... always someone better to hang out with. i concluded that it must be because i was ugly, fat and stupid.
at 14, i started self-injuring: cutting, burning, beating myself with objects until i bruised... anything to hurt myself. i hated myself more than anything, so intensely, and felt that i deserved to hurt. i was bulimic for several years as a teenager: i would eat nothing all day, then break down and binge & purge at night. at that point, i was severely depressed and felt that life was pretty much pointless.
my mother read my journal one day, and exposed all my secrets. my parents found out about the eating disorder and the self-injury, and sent me to a counsellor. i was diagnosed with clinical depression, and social anxiety disorder with dissociative episodes, obsessions & panic attacks.
they put me on medication after medication, trying to find something that worked. all i can say is that it felt like hell inside my brain until they finally found a solution. my extreme emotional fluctuations mellowed out, and life felt less overwhelming. i was able to stop purging, and i am no longer a self-injurer. i made the effort to "get better" because i couldn't stand seeing my family, friends & boyfriend so upset and worried about me all the time.
i am 21 years old; i've been medicated for the past 5+ years, and have come to accept that i cannot function in daily life without meds. i'll likely be on psychiatric drugs for the remainder of my life.
after eating "normally" for the past two years, i thought my eating disorder was gone. a stupid thought, of course, because here i am now at my lowest weight ever, still looking for something i'll never find. everyone seems to think that i'm still "fine", and i'd like to keep it that way. i don't need people's attention to validate my feelings & behaviours anymore.
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