Entry 1.
I am lying now about what I’ve eaten.
Entry 3.
I don’t see it.
That I can be so thin that I am worthy of your worry, your help.
I’m not sick enough.
I could get better any time I choose. It is just that I have to choose and sticking with it is the hardest.
Entry 12.
I wonder if there were more warnings against anorexia if people would listen?… and then I think maybe not because it’s not something you aim for.
A list of the commitment you are making daily would look something like this.
Be prepared to:
Lose your hair
Lose your friends
Lose your family
Develop depression
Spend a lot of time weighing up the pros and cons of death
The rest of your thoughts consisting of a horrid mix of guilt, shame, anxiety, fear and love. All at an unbearable intensity.
Never relax
Perpetually feeling as though all you need is one good night’s sleep and that night never coming
Ruin your teeth
Dry skin
Wounds that never heal
Perpetually cold
Weakened bones
Entry 13.
It is an impossibly hard thing to try to explain to someone who’s never felt it.
I realise now that I have never tried.
How could anyone be expected to understand the desire to starve yourself?
To put everyone else first, even people you don’t know or those you will never know?
Entry 21.
I think I am afraid of food.
Terrified.
How much to eat, what to eat, when to eat, where to eat, who to eat with.
I always felt I was eating too much so I watched what others ate and copied.
Then I tried to eat healthy.
I remember as my school lunches shifted from sandwiches with cheese, egg, lettuce, avocado and beetroot to avocado, lettuce and beetroot, to just beetroot and lettuce. Then nothing… what was the point?…
After a while nothing would suffice.
Nothing was safe.
I might as well eat nothing.
Entry 22.
Anorexia is not a dirty word.
Entry 34.
It used to be so obvious to me before.
It used to all make so much sense. Of course, if you didn’t eat breakfast between 7-9am you didn’t eat it at all. No dinner after 7:30pm, no carbs at dinner. No carbs in the afternoon.
All these made-up rules acquired from different readings and people meshed into a bizarre truth that was followed without question.
It always amazed and delighted me when I would see someone carelessly flaunt one of my rules.
Entry 37.
I want to curl up and be told everything is ok, will always be ok. I don’t want to go on like this.
If I’m honest right now I want to give up.
Entry 49.
I remember the first time a cup of porridge was poured into a bowl in front of me.
It seemed impossible.
A mountain of food.
Entry 50.
And maybe it’s that I just can’t justify feeding myself unless I “need it”.
If I’m not starvingly thin then I don’t need/deserve to eat.
Entry 51.
I want someone else to be stronger than anorexia.
Is it possible?
I know that can only ever be a temporary phase though and I think that must be what I am afraid of. Where to go from there? Why don’t I just continue trusting myself?
Why can’t I just continue eating?
Because it’s hard.
Because I want to be saved.
I think.
I think I want all these things I thought I never wanted, and it scares me.
How?…
Entry 58.
Starve yourself. It dulls the mind.
Every time something goes wrong starve yourself.
Every time something goes right starve yourself.
Entry 59.
The decision to eat or not to eat has become a tough one.
Even fruit and vegetables which always felt fairly safe are a challenge.
It is more challenging to eat them than to not and I now weight around xkg and have no short-term goal of stopping the decline.
Entry 63.
What will I do with this life when I am “healthy?” …
Is it that question, that pressure that scares me into submission, into paralysis, into sickness, into excuses over doing?
Because anything I do or achieve will never be good enough?
Entry 64.
I feel so much clearer and so much better so why am I still starving myself?
Entry 71.
Now I’ve gone too far.
Entry 72.
I wonder if I could truly do it.
I’ve always just thought I could. There has always been a reason not to though. The pain, the fear. I can’t help them. I can’t make this world a kind place. It’s too much.
Entry 73.
I don’t want to eat today.
That’s all I know.
I wonder if I will.
Entry 79.
The number of mornings I’ve got up predawn to run in the rain is not balanced by the number of mornings I’ve stayed in bed and had warm porridge for breakfast.
Why can’t I make my own decision about what, when and how much I eat for myself?
Why don’t I trust myself?
And every time there is something I can do in the future I choose not to because I don’t plan to be “sick” then.
Well, when do I plan to be “better?” …
Entry 82.
That intoxicating jolt of joy, the anticipation as I put my surfboard in my car.
It was like the montage of my life, of all the fun there was to be had from surfing rushed up. All those memories of early mornings waiting for it to be light enough to see what the waves looked like and hit the water.
Entry 86.
Are we all just wishing for more?
Wishing to escape!
The music.
I feel as though I could jump out of this body.
Is it fair to think that tomorrow holds nothing beautiful or fairer?
To sleep with the hope the light of day will bring new life.
Entry 89.
The muffled sounds of heartbreak.
I am so lonely. For what? I do not know.
Not for love.
To give love.
To be touched. And then I look at my body and feel repulsed. All skin and bone.
No.
Entry 90.
Food.
Why did I care so much that I was eating more than them?
Why not just eat more?
Entry 91.
What is it with food that is just so difficult?
With my whole heart I hope you found this information useful and inspiring.
Become Great. Live Great.
Bonnie.
