After spending a summer in treatment, I was finally recovering from my anorexia. I was doing pretty well, actually. I was eating healthy, not feeling guilty or cutting down on my food and that annoying little voice was almost gone. Then… BANG! A week ago, another episode of depression hit me, bringing back the anxiety attacks, the cutting and leaving a small gap for that voice to creep back into my head… And boy was she hitting hard! I went back to my old ways. This time - and this was quite hard to admit because I was scared and a coward- I realized that there’s a part of me that doesn’t want this eating disorder to go away. There’s a part of me that even recent me for seeking help again and for telling all of this to my psychologist.
I know this is just the beginning. I know she’s going to put up a fight and there’re are going to be terrible days ahead, but I’m convince that I’m going to win and she’s going to lose. Tomorrow, I’m seeing a psychiatrist from the treatment center. They wanted me to start treatment right away but since I’m in college it was going to be quite hard. So until December, I’m going to be seeing their psychologist and psychiatrist and I’m going to be assisting to a support group.
Confession of the day: I skipped breakfast and I ate fifteen gummy bears this afternoon.
TTFN! <3
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