My secrets.

I’m going to recover.

I’m going to get better.

I’m reading all of these blogs of people with eating disorders.

And I relate to them on so many levels.

Things I want to be able to do:

Eat out with friends and not feel self-conscious

Put on a bikini and not care about the way my stomach looks

Eat ice cream and not hate myself

Run just for the sake of running

Wear shorts without comparing my thighs to everyone else’s

All the time.

I wish that I could eat normally again.

I don’t eat like a normal person.

This eating disorder is killing me.

I just want to be happy, and I want to have the strength and energy to go running again and I want to still eat healthy but I also want to have chips and salsa sometimes and I want to have pancakes sometimes and Italian food and I just want to LIVE. I don’t want to restrict myself from LITERALLY everything.

I want to laugh again. Nothing is even funny to me anymore.

I just want to be happy. I want to recover. I want to find myself, again.

There comes a point where you just get tired of keeping something all to yourself, that no one knows except for a select few.

I just need a shoulder, a friend, someone who will tell me that I’m going to get through this. I will recover. And things are going to be okay.

redefinitionofbeauty:

How do you approach the war that you fight against yourself? 　

So I went to the Loma Linda eating disorder place, and they “evaluated” me.

I don’t even know what to say.

I just.. I don’t know.

I wish someone cared other than my parents.

That’s selfish.

*sigh.

tornattheseams:

My thoughts are consumed with food, and exercise, and weight, and measurements, and calories, and numbers. The thing is, I don’t remember when it wasn’t, I can’t remember what it’s like to not care about this stuff. For a majority of my life I cared less about numbers, but I can’t remember it. Why?

This is my biggest problem…