Making Memories.

Dear 2009,

So, maybe 2009 wasn't the Two-Thousand-and-Divine I had planned it to be... More like, Two-Thousand-and-I-Wasted-A-Whole-Damn-Year-of-My-Life. But nevertheless, this was a year of my life and I can't take it back.

You have seen me through a year. Each and every single day, for 365 days, you have been there with me, seeing me through. Welcoming me in the morning, saying goodnight when my eyes closed for the final time that day. I want to thank you, for bringing me a new day, 365 of them, to work with and make the most of.

Although I may not have made the most of the year you gave me, I want to concentrate on the positives; because though it may take some time to think of them, they are there, and they are what matter most.

The things you have done, the things you have seen me through, have shaped me into who I am today.

I have done things I never thought I would or could do.
I have seen things I never thought I would see.
I have been places I never thought I would go.
I've met people I never thought I would meet.
I have experienced things I never thought I would experience.
I have learned things I never knew I would learn.
I have faced many challenges, and overcome many challenges.
I have built up confidence and courage though at first I was afraid.
I have gained determination and a fighting spirit.
I have found light in the darkest of places.
I have realized my strength, my potential, my abilities - even though I at first doubted myself.
I have never given up.

Thank you, 2009, for giving me the opportunity to better myself. Thank you, for giving me the chance to discover myself, and thank you for seeing me through my struggles and watching me as I came through. Although I will never see you again, you will be a part of my life.

Thank you, 2009, for the memories.

Love,

Eleanor.

I'll never have a chance at making anything more of 2009 than what I did - I know I do regret a lot of the choices I made this year, but regretting will get me no where, because what is done is done.
I think, even if I had the chance to go back and do things again, make different choices and change the way my future pans out, I wouldn't. I wouldn't do things differently. Although this year has not been a "good" year, not one of my "best" years, it was a year of my life, and it has shaped me into who I am now. I may not be proud of the things that have happened and the way things have turned out, but this is my life; I've made bad choices in the past, but it's my life, I am in control, and there is nothing stopping me from making good choices in the future.

The turning of a new year doesn't symbolise change in any way, other than it will be 2010, instead of 2009. A change of dates doesn't change a person instantaneously. Change comes from within the person, and it is a process, not an automatic transformation. I'm not using the New Year to set goals, New Year's Resolutions. What makes setting goals for the New Year any different to setting goals and working towards achieving them on any other given day? There is no difference.

I set a goal a long time ago, to better myself. I made some wrong choices and decisions, and I wound up with a disease I had no idea about until I was in too deep. But that doesn't mean I have to stay this way. I'm keeping to the goal I set of bettering myself. But bettering myself in a healthy way.
I'm thankful for everything this year brought me, and I look at the New Year, of 2010, as a new chapter, a fresh start. I can't forget the past year, I can't forget the past 16 years of my life and start anew, but I can use my experiences over the past 16 years as motivation.

My goal, my resolution, is this:
I will live my life.

This year brought me a lot of things. But of all the things it brought me, one thing stands out in particular. This year brought me you. And for that, I am truly, inexplicably grateful.

We say goodbye to 2009, but welcome 2010 with arms wide open. I hope that you will all be a part of my 2010, because I could not imagine things being any other way. We'll get through 2010 together, and make the most of every moment.
Our lives are what we make of them.

Happy New Year!

See you next year, my beautiful girls.

 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Love, love, love.

May The Force Be With You.

Two strong forces are working against each other. A fight to the death:

Component Number One: The Mind. (ED = Negative)
Component Number Two: The Body. (Eleanor = Positive)

And no matter how long they fight, neither ever wins. And I'm at a loss of who to root for. Some days, I want ED to win. Other days, I want my body to win. No matter how long I think on it, I can never decide.

ED has been doing terrible things to my head lately. After dinner, I have the choice of having a serving of dried fruit. Dried fruit, is all well and good. I love dried fruit, especially figs, which are plentiful at the moment. While showering, ED's little voice sneaks into my head, and ties my thoughts in knots. ED brings up the topic of having figs after dinner, tempting me with them. But as soon as I consider actually having them, ED jumps in with: "Are you kidding me? You're really going to have them!? You fat pig. They're full of calories you don't need." So I decide against having them. Then the thought of having them comes up again, to which ED repeats above abuse, and more.
As you can see, I have myself a dilemma. There's a strong force, Eleanor, telling my body I would like to have something "extra", but there's another, stronger force, telling Eleanor and convincing the body that she doesn't need the "extra". And honestly, I don't know which force to obtain. 

It goes on and on; it's never ending. Combine that with the extreme body image issues I've been having lately and you could almost use the energy produced to blow up the universe.
I want to escape. I don't want these thoughts in my head, battling away, day and night. I want peace, I want comfort, I want acceptance and happiness and purity. 

I've been having a lot of trouble expressing how I've been feeling lately, hence the absence from blog-world for a few days. Reading your supportive comments, and your inspirational, positive posts has definitely kept me afloat - without it I wouldn't be in a state fit to blog, let alone face the world.

I had blood tests today. Five damn flasks of my blood, just... Gone, like that. And I'm ashamed to admit that I almost passed out. I've never experienced a blackout before, in all my years! (...Being about 16 and a few months.) The nurse I saw, though, she was incredible. She looked down at my information sheet thing, and it states I've got Anorexia Nervosa - to which she said "Do you know... I suffered from Anorexia in my twenties." Strangely, when I saw her I had a feeling something like that had affected her once. Don't ask me how, I just felt it. Strange. But anyway! She was the most beautiful, helpful woman. So kind and caring - even though she was stealing my blood! I had a great talk with her; it's amazing just how much it can help to talk with someone who knows what you're going through. That was definitely the highlight of my day. 

I'm not really sure what else I can say - the conflicting thoughts are continuing to drown out my consciousness. I feel like a zombie. I had therapy yesterday, which I really haven't been getting a lot out of lately. I told her, and she told me, that I hadn't committed fully to recover. I said I felt like everyone else was recovering for me, and I wasn't playing a part in it. So I've got homework. Yes, you heard me; homework. Which consists of drawing up a Pros and Cons list, of staying the same and recovering. I've always been a skeptic with things like this - they've always seemed childish to me. But I am going to put all my effort into it, because there's always the chance it will help. I might surprise myself - Miss Debbie Downer, here, might find a reason to smile.

Sorry for the Star Wars reference; I thought it appropriate, though.
Although we do partially stand in the dark side (okay, sorry!), we have another foot firmly placed in the positive side. That is the side we truly want to belong to. That side is where life is. That should be, and can be, and will be, our fighting force. The force is with you. As for the negative force... Channel it, master it, conquer it. 

Love, love, love.
Once again, I would just like to thank you all, for everything you have ever done for me and said to me. Thank you all, for your belief in me, for your support, help and guidance. Without you, I would simply not be where I am now. You are my fighting force.

"Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall..."

"...Who is staring back at me?"

Trying on clothes is fun. Getting undressed in front of four big mirrors and not being able to figure out who's looking back at me, however, isn't.
Is someone else in my changeroom!?

I've been having trouble lately in accepting who I am, or rather, figuring out who I am. I can feel the changes in my body, and I can see them. But I can't see Eleanor. I don't know if who I'm looking at in the change-room mirrors of department stores is Eleanor, or ED's depiction of Eleanor.
Blue eyes? Yep, they're definitely mine.
Short, spikey hair? Check. Mine too.
But those huge thighs and arms, that big butt, that bloated stomach, whose are they? Because I didn't think they were mine!
What I'm seeing in the mirror, and what I'm seeing when I look down at this body... I can't figure out if what I'm looking at is the true vision, or a false image.
But whosever body I'm in, whatever it "looks like" to others, I'm not comfortable in it.
And I'll be damned if someone else is in the change-room with me.

I'm starting to fill out my shorts and jeans more now, and I honestly don't know what to think of that. When I look in the mirror, I see things I don't want to see, things I shouldn't see. And that blistering voice in my head - that is certainly not my own - attacks. How could you let yourself go like that, Eleanor? How could you look so fat, Eleanor? Why did you let this happen, Eleanor? No one will love you, now that you look like this. Look like what? I DONT KNOW WHAT I LOOK LIKE.

This has been stressing me out for far too long. Gone are the days of "Damn I look good in this"; they've been replaced by negative thoughts. ED says it, and the mirror proves it. I look fat, I look bad, I look gross. Negative affirmations.
Rationally, I know this can't be right. I hate the word fat. It's such a derogitory term; but I guess ED uses that as an advantage. I've been made to believe so many lies about myself by ED, then told the opposite by parents and friends and specialists; it's gotten me absolutely nowhere. I don't know who or what to believe. But the mirror doesn't lie, right? If the mirror shows me as big and bloated and carrying loads of excess fat, then it must be "me"?

I don't feel comfortable in my clothes, because I don't feel comfortable in my body. My body is a vessle: it takes me from place to place; it keeps me alive; it gives me breath, smell, sight, hearing; it allows me to do the things I love, it allows me to feel. So why am I abusing it? Why am I unable to see what it actually looks like? Why can't I appreciate it for what it is, what it does, how beautiful it is?

This self-hate, this self-loathing, this abuse both mentally and physically is tiring. You know the saying "It takes more muscles to frown than to smile"? Applies to this, too: It takes so much more energy to hate than to love. It takes so much more energy to abuse than to care for. It takes so much more energy to be negative than to be positive.

The vicious cycle has to stop. Walk past a mirror => body-check => uncomfort => dissatisfaction => hate => misery => hate => misery => hate => misery.... You get the picture. I'm working myself into a hole, and that hole is getting deeper and deeper. It's only going to get deeper the longer this goes on. I need to learn to appreciate my body, and accept it for what it is, whatever "it" is. Maybe I can't see who Eleanor is at the moment, but that's because ED is in the forefront of my mind - ED's the driving force behind this self-hate. My mind is a vessle for ED. So, that should mean I can kick ED off the boat, right? And with that, the body-hate will fall off with ED. And good riddance.

So maybe the mirror is lying right now. But as I continue down my path of recovery and self discovery, ED will start falling behind and eventually get lost; we'll be seperated. And that seperation will get me a front row seat in the healthy life.

Discovery and recovery.
Join me on my path to discovering myself. We can all do this together. It's easier when you're not alone.

Love, love, love.

The Day After.

Here I am. Still alive. Who knows how but I managed to get through Christmas - I was faced with a few problems though, unfortunately.
I woke up in the early morning, looked at the time, and snuggled back into my blankets, knowing full well that those were the last few seconds I'd have them wrapped around me. My body was telling me to get up, so I dragged myself out of bed. "Oh." I said. "It's Christmas." Notice the lack of exclimation ! marks, leaps of joy, cries of happiness? Yeah. I wasnt overjoyed. Not to say I wasn't happy that it was Christmas, because I was! But it didn't feel like Christmas. The feel of it was lacking. Nonetheless, I smiled, and started my day with some yoga. To be honest, I wasn't really that nervous about the day awaiting me. Foodwise, I was to be doing what I normally do, because that's what I felt comfortable with.
When the rest of my family awoke, we began the present-unwrapping! That was hilarious, and we all did very well this year! I was smiling, laughing - I was happy. I was Eleanor. But then I got hit by an absolute killer of a pain through my whole stomach. I was bloated, in pain, and I couldn't even face myself in the mirror. I completely broke down in my room, crying and everything, and I had no idea why. It was like ED was punishing me for being happy and not paying any attention to him. Rather than making me feel sorry for myself, I felt mad. Mad, that I couldn't have a day free of worries and stresses. I couldn't just have a day, one day, where I was allowed to smile and laugh and be happy - surrounded by the people I love and doing the things I love doing. ED didn't allow me that - he had to ruin the day.
But despite that little slip-up, I battled on and through. We sat down to lunch, and my parents allowed me some wine. And wow. It was good wine, to say the least! I've never had experience with alcohol, and I had about one and a half standard drinks. I was tipsy! After that! But it was crazy fun. I felt light, I felt free, I felt like there was nothing to worry about. Short-lived, yes, but it was a nice experience. Not something I'd do all the time, mind you. I'm glad I did it, though. And not once did the "calories" in the wine cross my mind. I was doing this for me, not for ED.

However, my stomach continued to give me trouble, more than I've experienced in a long, long time. ED decided to take advantage of this... I wasn't feeling up to consuming the usual amount of food I eat on any other day, and ED persuaded me into talking my parents out of  me having my usual meals and snacks. I had about half of what I was supposed to have, and ED was elated. I didn't know what I was feeling. I did kick him in the butt today, though, by having more that what I needed to. I've always had trouble with having "extras", but today I managed a little something, and you know what? I enjoyed it.

I may not have had the gingerbread I made, and I may not have had the cheeses, the dips, the pastries and the meat Mum served at Christmas lunch, but I didn't freak out about anything food related. I know I gave in to ED, and I know that I shouldn't just let that slide, but I was convinced that my Christmas was going to be a disaster. And I'm proud and happy to say that my Christmas wasn't a disaster.

I'm not sure how I'm feeling about everything right now - my mind is still getting back into the swing of things. I'll do a proper and less 'messy' post tomorrow!

I hope you all had an amazing Christmas, nothing less than exceptional. Because you all deserve happiness and joy, and you all have the right to smile and laugh.
You are all so beautiful, inside and out. ED might make an unwanted appearance at the most inconvenient of times, and ED might try to destroy any speck of happiness you muster up, but you are all so strong, and you all have the strength to fight back.
Christmas is a time for joy, yes. But that doesn't mean you can't be happy any other day. You deserve to be in the best of spirits, all day, every day.

The best gift I recieved was your love and support.

Love, love, love.

'Twas The Night Before Christmas...

...Yes, I know thats not really a very original title post, but I'm keeping with the whole Christmas theme here, because I've felt like a bit of a Grinch recently! So I'm making up for it now. I dug into my Christmas Cheer supply and went all out this morning by making red, white and green paper chains for the living room. See, I'm not a complete party pooper!
I'm finding it hard to believe that it's actually Christmas Eve today/night. It's sort of all just crept up on me, without my notice. I can't imagine that tomorrow morning I'm going to be sitting under the Christmas tree handing out and unwrapping presents. And then it will be all over, for another year. I had no hype this year. Nothing of the sort. And I am really sad about that, because I used to love this time of year when I was young. I guess that's what you get when you grow up!
(I'm still going to wait up and catch Santa out this year...)

So, in the spirit of Christmas and all that is Merry, I am going to to a list, not of the things I want, but of the thigns I am grateful I have.

Christmas Love List

My family.
I know, I know, very generic. But it's true; I love my family so much more than they realize. My Mum, my Dad, my older brother and my younger brother. Through everything, good times and bad, these four beautiful people have been there for me. By my side, no matter what time of day it is, no matter how bad a mood I'm in, they're there holding my hand, and will never let go. At times, they definitely feel underappreciated, especially my Mum. I wish I could tell her how much she means to me, as well as my Dad and brothers. They are amazing people, and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have a family like mine.

My friends.
Life just wouldn't be the same without the friends I've been lucky enough to gain. A few particular people have changed my life and impacted me on such a deep level, that I would simply not be the same if they weren't part of my life.

Giving Love and Recieving Love.
No matter where love comes from and who it's for, love is everywhere. Love is the foundation of everything. Love brings meaning to life. Love makes you feel warm, safe, happy. Love holds the pieces of my heart together.

Dreams, Goals and Aspirations.
We can all achieve our goals, we can all live our dreams, we can all reach our aspirations. These three things are reasons to continue onward and upward. Because we are all capable. Our dreams, goals and aspirations make us who we are.
Smiling.
It is amazing just how good a smile can make you feel.
Tea and Coffee!
There is nothing better than sitting down to a nice, steaming hot cup of your favourite beverage.
PIRATES!
Okay, namely Johnny Depp... He's just really handsome, okay!? I've had pirate songs stuck in my head all week, and I honestly think that's contributed to my happiness of late. And honestly, pirate shanties are so cool. And so are the clothes. ;) Yo, ho, and a bottle of rum!
Early Mornings and Sunrises.
I am a morning person. I wake up early, every morning, so I can appreciate the coming of a new day. Without fail, I go out the back and look up at the sky, which sometimes still has stars winking down at me. The golden glow of the rising sun warms my face and fills me with my own glow; the glow of feeling alive. Morning times are the most important part of my day: my time alone, where I can gather my thoughts and make sense of my life.

There are many, many more things I could write about. When I really think about it, I have so much more than what ED says I have. I can be so much more without ED, than with ED. I can be Eleanor, the happy, smart, life-loving Eleanor who felt comfortable in her skin, who looked forward to doing new, exciting things and never held back. I know I can be that person again; I appreciate that it will take time for the stranglehold of ED to weaken, and the ties ED has on me to loosen, but I'm prepared to wait. The wait, the effort, the hardships and the constant struggles will be worth it, in the end.

The last thing to go on my Christmas Love List, is you. Yes, you. You beautiful, amazing, intelligent, capable, strong, independant, motivational, inspirational human being. I love you. There are no amount of words I can use to express my gratitude towards the love and support you have all given me. Without this blog, and without the kindness I've been shown, I would not be where I am now. This blogging community has turned my life around and I've come out of the shell ED built up around me. You've all enabled me to show a side of me that ED has tried to hide. Eleanor.
You are the last, but certainly not the least, important thing to go on my Love List. Because I do love you. You all deserve love. And you all deserve happiness. You all deserve to be you, without anything holding you back.

Have a very Merry Christmas, because you deserve it. Don't let anything stop you from having happiness.

Love, love, love.

A Report for Miss Ginger.

Three more sleeps until Santa comes to visit. Already? I don't know how this has happened! Where has time gone?
Every day consists of the same things, with no variety or change. That is, of course, unless I have a doctor/nutrition/therapist appointment. Oh, the joys. (I have to get blood tests again! No!) As you can see, my goings on are really not "goings on" at all, because nothing does "go on". I feel like a mouse on one of those running wheels. Not actually going anywhere, but wearing myself out completely. That's what recovery is feeling like at the moment. As hard as I try, my efforts don't take me anywhere. I'm stagnant. And it's not doing me, my social life, my health, my family, any good. If anything, it's making things worse than slipping back. How is staying still worse than slipping backwards?

I did, however, do something a little different yesterday. I made gingerbread cookies! Pre-ED, I loved baking, and I would bake all the time. I'd bake for my family, my friends, my teachers... And me. But then I started becoming a little weird around food, and wouldn't eat the things I made. And I'm ashamed to say that this was the case yesterday. I love the process of baking: getting out the ingredients, following the instructions, and watching the heat and raising-agents work their magic. It's more like art, to me. But anyway, the point is, I did something I enjoyed doing, and I felt good about it. Let me just tell you, the house smelt of gingery goodness. It felt like Christmas.

My photography skills are non-existant, but I wanted to show you all!

I've been contemplating treating myself to one, but ED has been making his presence known - especially his thoughts. "Eat one of those and you'll get fat fat fat", you know, the same old. It isn't "safe". Eleanor knows that food isn't either good or bad, it's about moderation. But ED wont have a piece of it. I've got my safe foods, and I stick to them. I still can't go out and eat with family or friends at restaurants, or even for morning snack! The only thing I feel safe having is coffee, and even then it has to be a specific sort. I realize I'm still stuck in the safety-zone, and my thoughts about food are still very disordered. Some days I do have more than I 'need' to, but I don't have an actual calorie goal - my meal plan is based around certain food I have to have. A food group. I don't know, it's hard to explain. But I'm very rigid and set in everything to do with food and meals, and it's not something I feel like I can let go of. Crazy, frustrating.

I have some good news, though! I finally got my school report for this year. I was expecting to see horrible marks in most of my subjects, as I'd taken the last term off and home-schooled instead. Upon opening said report, I flicked through it quickly and was pleasantly surprised. Actually, I was OVER THE FREAKIN' MOON! I had convinced myself that my grades were going to be less than average, but as I read through each subject report, my face brightened. Something my English teacher wrote:
Despite her illness and her belief to the contrary, Eleanor has done a great job this year. Well done!
I actually couldn't be happier with my report. I've always doubted my ability, in everything, but to be proved wrong, in this case, is always nice. It's nice to know that I am good at something.

I'm trying so hard to ensure that ED doesn't impose on my Christmas. Christmas is a time for joy, happiness, love, compassion. Not, by any means, a time for tears, fighting, unhappiness and hate. I can't have ED ruin this for me and my family. I feel so much to blame for the unhappiness and stress I've brought upon my family already... To ruin Christmas would be like taking the heart and soul out of a loved one. ED will not rob me of the good time I know we can have. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure Christmas is ED free. One day, every day will be ED free. Not just for me. For all of us.

Love, love, love.

Thank you, wise women.

This is how I felt this morning towards all of you beautiful ladies, as I read my comments from yesterday's post. I was in such a slump, even after a good night's sleep, but your words managed to pull me out of my melancholy state and into a lighter, brighter, happier place. Even now, I'm still beaming away as I re-read the supportive, encouraging, kind and loving words you girls string together so beautifully. I am amazed at just how much this blogging community has helped me - I have you all to thank for my happier state.

Well, the ever so lovely Tatianna and Hannah  tagged me to share 7 random facts about myself! So here goes.

Numero Uno: I cried when I found out the Easter Bunny wasn't real! But I didn't cry when I found out Santa wasn't the one delivering my Christmas presents...
Two: I chipped my front tooth (adult tooth... Ugh!) when I fell over in the bath when I was about 10.
Three: I have 5 birth marks dispersed over my body.
Four: My eyes change colour with my mood.
Five: I have a big freckle on my left cheek that is in exactly the same place on my right cheek.
Six: I passed English in Year 8 even though I didn't hand in one assignment... Yeah, we had a bad teacher.
Seven: I, like Tatianna, went through a phase of listening to heavy/black metal... But I have recovered!

I tag anyone who hasn't been tagged yet - though I'm sure you all have by now! 

I've come to realize that I am in control of my health. My dietitian can recommend what I should have, my parents can tell me to eat or whatnot, but it's down to me whether I choose to jump on the recovery band-wagon or not. The thing is, ED is still such a prominent part of my thinking, that it becomes hard to make a final decision. Decision making has never been a talent of mine, and now that has just been magnified. I want more than anything to see the light at the end of the tunnel and walk into it, but ED's version looks so much simpler and easier. Walking to that light, into health, is a long and hard trek. Eleanor is willing to battle through those hardships, but ED isn't. And because ED is such a convincing part of my mind, he sometimes wins me over.
The answer is right in front of me, but there's a glass wall in front of me, preventing me from going on. I know I'm the one that put it there in the first place, but it's become so hard, almost too hard, to break down. To fully recover, I have to commit to recovery. And I haven't committed yet. Every day is a battle, and every mouthful is a task.
The loss in my weight has confused me, because I'm feeling my body changing. I'm fitting into clothes tighter, I'm seeing parts of my body grow bigger. And I'm not okay with that. Well, ED isn't okay with that. I know that what I'm seeing in the mirror isn't me - it's not what everyone else sees. But I'm convinced that it is. I've convinced myself that the shape I am now is okay. I don't know, maybe it is... But my BMI is telling me otherwise.

I don't know anything for certain, and that uncertainty scares me. Being scared is such a horrible feeling, and those fears, I know in my heart of hearts, are irrational.
FEAR, as my dear friend who shares my name ;) said, stands for:
False Expectations Appearing Real.
I cannot elaborate on that, as it is just so... Obvious. The irrational things we fear, are just that. Irrational. We expect these things to be scary, we convince ourselves that they are, therefore they become real. But only real in our own minds. In reality, these things aren't scary. A false accusation, almost. Thank you, dear Eleanor, for sharing that. It's been in my mind for the whole day, and it couldn't be more relevant right now. I fear the weight gain. But is weight gain bad? No! No. "Gaining weight" doesn't mean "gaining fat", as ED has convinced me. "Gaining weight" means gaining health.

And that is what I'm going to do. I may not have fully committed to recovery just yet, but I know that it will come. Eleanor is screaming to be released, and she will be, in good time. In a time soon to come.

Thank you, O' Wise Women, for your insight, support, and inspiration. You all have it in you to beat the ED that has locked the real you away. It is you that has the key, and soon enough, you will find it, and step out into the bright world, where life is waiting for you.

♡ ♡ ♡

Love, love, love.

Too much.

I could say that my appointment went well, that I'd put on weight and ED didn't kick up a fuss, that I got a lot out of it and laughed and smiled and talked about important things. But I would be lying.
I got on the scales, and watched the numbers tick. Fast, slow, fast, slow, making up its mind. I was trying not to fidget as the screen blurred. The numbers settled, and my heart leaped into my throat as my stomach dropped. "Oh, you've lost weight."
ED screamed in joy, Eleanor screamed in agony. She knew what was coming.
But not a sound came out of my mouth. I was silent. "What do you think about that?" says the Nutritionist in that expecting sort of tone, the one all specialists have. You know, the tone that comes with someone whose eyebrows are arched. "I... Don't know." I managed to say. Because I truly, truly didn't know what to think of that. I was almost too scared to speak. Then the nutritionist said the words I've been dreading to hear. "We're going to have to up your supplement drinks." That's when the tears started. That's when ED came into full blossom. "No. I'm not having more. I'm not." My eyes were full of tears, and I couldn't look at anyone. "I'm afraid you have no choice, Eleanor. You've lost weight." "I'm not having more." It went on like that for a while, and that stupid woman was joking with my Mum, laughing. I've never wanted to run away in my life more than I did then. The feeling of anger was so overwhelming. I couldn't speak. I wouldn't speak. I was so furious. Just... So furious.
She gave Mum a few sachets of this other supplement drink, which just furthered my anger. Then I went outside so Mum could talk to her in private. I didn't htink this was fair. I mean... It's me they're talking about so I should be able to know what they're speaking about. Knowing Mum she was probably getting tips on how to sneak more calories into my food.
On the walk home, I started crying again. I told Mum that I wasn't doing it. I was not having more of that supplement. "You can't make me, she can't make me, so I'm not." ED was taking advantage of the situation. When I got home, I broke down completely. I started sobbing uncontrollably in the kitchen, and just melted onto the floor. That's when I heard Mum and Dad talking about me. Apparently. Karen suggested to Mum that I could be making myself throw up my food in an attempt to lose weight. Now, of all things she could've said, she said that. And Mum, I think, believes her. It did more than make me angry. It hurt. It honestly hurt me.
I don't... I don't even know how to explain how I'm feeling right now. I'm so confused. ED isn't letting me have a break. He's been in my ear all day, telling me ways I could cheat, work my way around things, so I don't gain weight. Telling me I'll get fat, I'll be ugly, huge, disgusting. I don't know where Eleanor is at the moment. She's definitely not at the forefront of my mind right now.

I really am sorry I'm so negative at the moment. I just... I needed to let it out. I still need to let it out. I'm scared. I'm hurt. I'm angry. I'm worried. I'm a mess. I'm confused. So, so confused.

Thank you so much for your support. It overwhelmed me this morning. I needed all the encouragement I could get before my nutritionist appointment, and I broke into smiles. Smiles I needed. I tried to keep your beautiful words in my mind when I was there, and I've read them over and over once I'd calmed down enough. I can't say how much I appreciate you all. Nothing I say would do you all justice. So I give you my love.

Tomorrow's a new day.

Love, love, love.

Surprise.

I did something last night I never thought I would do. I surprised myself! So many emotions, thoughts, feelings were going through my head before, during and after. I didn't know whether to smile, cry, be ashamed, be proud, regret, celebrate.
Okay, so last night, I was sitting on the computer, and I was thinking. I was thinking about Saturday (tomorrow) morning's Nutritionist appointment - have I gained, have I lost, have I maintaned? And a thought came into my head: if I haven't gained, she's going to make me eat more, and I'm not going to like it. So I did something odd.
I looked at the clock, and it was 9:10pm. Alright, whatever. I got up, I walked to the kitchen. I opened the fridge. I looked at the peanut butter. I looked at the time again. 9:11pm - one hour and 11 minutes after ED lets me eat anything. I looked at the peanut butter again. I opened the cutlery draw. I got out a spoon. I opened the peanut butter jar and I scooped out a spoonful of peanut butter. I put it in my mouth. I chewed. I swallowed.
...

AND I'M STILL ALIVE.

And you know what was even weirder? This morning, I was half way through my oatmeal, when I got up and put a spoonful of peanut butter in. An extra!? I didn't know what had come over me. It was an impulse thing. To be honest, I still don't know what I should be feeling. ED's been going a little crazy, but I've been trying to ignore him. I'm dreading the scales tomorrow. For the past two weeks I've been dreading stepping up onto that cold, hard piece of metal and seeing the numbers tick up up up, until they stop flicking and settle. I'm scared of what that settled number will be. I'm scared of the outcome. I'm scared of gaining weight because ED will go crazy. I'm scared of losing weight because my Nutritionist might jack up my meal plan. And I wouldn't/couldn't handle eating more, or having another supplement drink on top of the ones I'm already consuming. To be honest, my mind is everywhere all at once, but also nowhere, at the same time. I keep asking questions, then drawing blanks. There's no answer to my questions because they're all about the future, which is undetermined.
I regret having the peanut butter, but I'm also proud. Actually... ED regrets me having the peanut butter, and Eleanor is proud. It's still so incredibly hard separating me from my monster, but I'm getting there. The things worth doing in life aren't easy, afterall.

As much as I want to be confident, I am not ready for tomorrow. I don't feel like I can face tomorrow. Regardless of the outcome, ED is going to have a reaction which will just make me feel bad about myself. My situation is like a double-edged blade, in some ways. No matter which way I hold it I get hurt.
Some days I want recovery so much - I want to be happy and healthy and not have to be hawked over by my parents, dietitian and psychologist. But other days I want to hold onto ED, because he's there for me when I need him - a security blanket.
But tomorrow is a new day. Today is what I should be concentrating on. I should be making the most of today and worrying about tomorrow when I'm actually there.

Until tomorrow, ladies.

Be who you are, and nothing less,
because who you are is beautiful.

Love, love, love.

Monster.

Remember when you were a kid, and you were convinced that there was a monster living under your bed? And no matter how many times your mum or dad looked under your bed and said "See? No monster here!" you sincerely believed you could hear it, and almost feel it lurking, waiting for a limb to dangle down past the safety of the matress to grab hold of you and pull you under. That monster kept you awake at night, because you feared that if you fell asleep, or if you dared peek out from under your blankets, it would eat you. But to save yourself, you ran to your parents bedroom and hid in the comfort of their bed. You were protected. You could run from that monster, and it couldn't follow you.
I have my very own monster. But not the monster that lives under your bed. My very own monster lives inside my head. Unlike when I was young and could run away, this monster follows me. Day and night, it's always there. Following me, haunting me, scaring me, hurting me.
I wish my monster lived under my bed, so I could run away and hide from its evil. My monster knows all my thoughts, all my fears, all my feelings. My monster envelopes my every thought.

This monster, it lurks in the back of my mind,
waiting for an opportune moment to grab me and pull me under.
Just like the bed-monster waiting for a stray limb.
My monster, however, doesn't go away.
My monster is with me, every day.
I can't run, I can't hide, I can't turn on a light,
It's with me, always, every day and every night.

My mind's been all over the place lately. The holidays are here now, and I've found myself at a loss for what to do. I feel like I don't have any purpose, almost like I have no reason or nothing to get up for in the morning. I wake up dreading the day ahead of me. I know that when I get out of bed, my breakfast is waiting for me. I'm still scared of food, and I know that's not rational. A fear of food? What kind of lunatic is afraid of food? I'm absolutely terrified of my dietitian appointment on Saturday morning, and that's a full 3 days away. After that, I don't see her for at least a month over the Christmas break... I'm scared that she's going to keep me on the same meal plan and that when I get weighed next I'm going to be at a huge weight.
Fears. Scared. Weight. Food. Fat. Sizes. Numbers.
Such... Trivial things, such unimportant things. And that's what's swamping my mind.

I feel like my parents are doing the recovery for me, and I'm just being dragged along on a rope behind them. My heart isn't in it. ED keeps telling me I don'tneed to get better or don't deserve to get better. That I'm not even sick enough to have to get better. It's really just too much.

I cannot tell you how sorry I am for being such a downer! I really want to turn this all around, and start seeing it in a new light, a positive light. Instead of this horrible "you'll get fat" blasphemy ED's been pulling on me for the past year.

Hopefully things start to turn around soon enough.

I know I have to take each day as it comes. There's no point in worrying about tomorrow when I still have to get through today. One small step after the other. No giant leaps.

When I get my head around things, my posts will start making more sense, I promise! I've been reading your blogs every day, and they've really helped me come to terms with everything. I just need to come to terms with myself and my situation. Thank you, all of you, for the amazing support and kind words. They help me get through my days. They scare away my monster.

Love, love, love.

Words.

I wrote a poem today, that I really wanted to share with you all. I thought you might appreciate it.

ED is a liar, a monster, corrupt,
A liar, abuser, a cold-hearted fuck.
Ed is a murderer, a reaper of lives,
In the end ED will ensure there's no chance you'll survive.
ED will taunt and tease, make you weak,
Wear down at your bones, hollow your cheeks.
ED will convince you right is wrong,
Confuse your mind of what you knew all along.
ED wil convince you wrong is right,
Takes advantage of weakness, blurs your insight.
ED preys on weakness, feeds of your fears,
Those fears ED created that bring you to tears.
ED sucks at your life, robs you of you,
Your identity is ED now, and ED is you.
ED poles you, pinches you, rips and tears at your skin,
Makes you loath and despise the body you're in.
ED wont let you believe that your life is your own,
Your life is EDs now, your mind is EDs home.
ED tells you, promises you, you'll be a beauty,
As long as the mirror doesn't show you what they see.
ED tells you they will only make you fat,
If you listen to ED, you'll be the opposite of that.
ED inhibits your mind, your soul, your heart,
Turns them to dust, rips them apart.
ED steals your mind, your heart and your soul,
And in its place, a huge, gaping hole.
ED wants to believe you're nothing, alone.
But ED will give you friendship, someone to call your own.
EDs love is hate, EDS fears are what you need,
Health, happiness, a mind that is free.
ED will always be there unless you step in,
Accept the elp, learn to fight, and WIN.
ED is a thief, a monster, corrupt,
But ED will disappear, when you say "Enough is enough".

I hope you girls get something from this. I just really thought I should share with you what's been on my mind lately - this doesn't sum it up completely, but the general idea is there.

I might post later on today, but if not...
Remeber that you are worth fighting for.

love, love, love.
♥ ♥ ♥

Tears and Fears.

I honestly don't think I'm able to cry any more tears. I've been a royal mess all darn week, and today's Dietitian appointment was just mental/psychological/emotional overload. I was sobbing! I can't remember the last time I sobbed. My brain has seriously begun to fry, from the constant numbers in my head, the constant putting-on-weight fear, and I didn't even get weighed this week. I've been freaking out of my mind, as I near the weight I've been dreading for such a long time. It would be nice to actually do what my parents, Therpaist and Dietitian say: "Just don't worry about your weight". Now, if it was that easy, I'd be as free as a bird right now, with no disordered thoughts, no disordered & distorted visions of myself, no ED full stop!
I feel like I'm saying the same things, over and over. I'm not coming to any amazing revelations, I haven't had an epiphany of any sort. I'm going round and round in circles and it's starting to become even more exhausting than it origionally was.

This constant battle between good and bad, it's driving me insane - not just me, though. My parents, too. I'm not just hurting myself, I'm hurting them. I hate having that sort of... Power. It's negative power, destructive power.
That's what ED is. A destruction. The attatchment I've formed with this monster is so much more than unhealthy. Those tears I've been crying, some were wasted on ED. The thought of losing ED scares me. But why should it? Why should ridding myself of the thing that's eating (hah, pun?) away at my body as well as my mind be something to fear? I don't understand it, but that's because ED wont let me understand it. As soon as a positive thought comes into my head, just as quickly a negative, ED thought comes in and takes over. Whether that be guilt of eating, the reflection I see - and loathe - in the mirror... Anything, as long as it makes me miserable. I'm sick to death of this torment, but I'm not letting myself let go.

Some days are much better than others, but I've been struggling so much this past week. I'm honestly trying to keep my head out of the bottomless pit of negativity, but it seems to sometimes get the better of me and drag me down. We're so vulnerable.
We need to be aware of our thoughts, at all times. The minute an ED thought seeps in... Pounce on it and rip it to shreads.
I'm challenging myself this week. I'm going to try and get on top of these thoughts... About my weight, my body image, my food intake, everything. I'm really going to try and stop ED from dragging me down. I'm entitled to being happy. It's my life and it's about time I had control of it again!

I love you all, and I can't thank you enough for your kind words of support.
Stay strong, stay focused, stay positive.

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."

Eleanor Roosevelt

♥ ♥ ♥ 

Love, love, love.

Things are Wild.

I wish I could sum up these past few days in words. But I'm pretty sure the words I'd use haven't been invented yet. This whole week, I've been struggling; struggling a whole lot more than I've let my parents, or anyone, know. This fixation on "not going over XX amount of weight" has been getting to me so much more than I thought it would; numbers and weights and amounts have been consuming my thoughts. My Therapist appointment yesterday went just like I thought it would. I told her about my fear of going over this weight, and she asked me what difference one kilo would make, and I couldn't answer, because I honestly didn't know. And I still don't know. ED was grasping at straws the whole time I was with her, trying to make excuses, trying to tell me that what she was saying was stupid and unimportant, and that she doens't really care, she's just saying these things because she has to. I've been trying to convince myself all week that no one is trying to make me fat or GOING to make me fat, they jus want me healthy, so I can be happy. But ED seems to think that where I am now is healthy. I'm fine here, and if I get any heavier I'll be "fat", just like that.

I broke down last night while talking to my parents. They keep telling me that I just "shouldn't worry" about the weight. SHOULDNT WORRY? Do you think if it was that easy that I WOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT IT?! I know I know I know they're only trying to make me see what's right instead of turnign to EDs thoughts and convictions, but it's almost like they're insensitive to how hard it is to just not worry. I don't want to worry, and I wish I didn't have to worry, but as soon as this scary number jumps up at me I just freak out and want to hide. Hiding... That means crawling into the safety of EDs arms.
Silly little me, I can't see that EDs arms are claws; claws that scratch and rip and dig and cut and bruise and scar. Prettying things over, that's what ED's doing. Thigns aren't pretty. Things really aren't pretty. I just wish I could convince myself of that.

Last night, as I lay on my bed feeling sory for myself (ED, not me), I looked up at my wall that's full of drawings, letters, and photographs. One drawing was a picture I drew last year, and I hadn't really thought much of it before... Until last night.

It dawned on me, just how relevant this picture is to the way I'm feeling now, and the way I've been feeling since about that time last year. I hadn't ever realized the significance of this picture. She's on the dark side, th bad side... Being wrapped around and swallowed up by this dark mass. Yet she can see the "other" side, the bright side, the happy side. She looks up at that, and knows it is real, knows it exists. But this darkness that's taking over her... It's stopping her from reaching the other, better side.

I really wanted to share this with all of you. I'm not an artist by any means, (this is as far as my artistic-self goes) but usually when I draw, it ends up being something significant, only I never realize it at first. Funny how that works, eh.

I wish I knew where I was right now. Part of me wants to cross that imaginary line to health and happiness, and the other part of me wants to stay in this enveloped darkness, the false sense of security. I don't like where I am, wherever I am. I want to find myself. I want to find Eleanor again, because I know she's there somewhere. I miss her... She was pretty cute.

OH! I forgot to mention... I FINISHED ALL MY ASSIGNMENTS! and I got A's for all of them! God, you have no idea how surprised I was when I saw those marks! My English teacher must be whack.. Hah, or maybe I just beat myself up too much. The latter, I think. But I was so happy with it. It really made my day a lot better than it could have been.
I've been really pissy with my Dad lately, and he sort of ruined my mood when I came home and told him about my score. Don't ask me how, too confusing. But he's been really up in my face lately, a real hypocrite and just... Not someone I want to be around. I'm getting really sick of him. I knew it was coming, and I've dreaded it, but I don't know what to do about it.

Would you look at that. I just managed to turn a real positive into a negative. Sporadic changes in mood... They're killing me.
But to go back onto a positive note, I'm seeing Where The Wild Things Are tonight with my Mother Dearest, which should be great! I loved the book as a kid, and I have a feeling this movie is going to release the Wild Thing within me, at least for tonight, anyway.

Thank you, as always, for your support and kind words. Without them I wouldn't be where I am right now. So thank you, lovely ladies, for without you I just wouldn't know what to do!

♥ ♥ ♥

Love, love, love.

Get on with it.

Recently I haven't really had much in the way of excitement to post about. I feel like I'm constantly repeating myself... Not just in words, either. Every day is the same. I do the same things, eat the same food, speak to the same people, see the same things... It's all very monotonous and boring. But even just considering doing something different freaks me right out. There's no way I'd sleep in, because that would muck up my routine. There's no way I would eat a new food - the thought alone sends me into a nervous breakdown. Sure, I coudl see different people, but that would mean being social, and do I even want to go out into the world, with other people? No, I'd much prefer to do it on my own. So I'm in a bit of a rut, to say the least.
Change. I'm supposed to embrace it - that's what everyone says. Welcome change, become the change. My adaption skills are very limited, I'm afraid. So that makes embracing change a little tricky. Especially where my weight is concerned. That's been basically the only thing on my mind these past few days. ED's having a fit every time I put food into my mouth, and GOD FORBID, when I eat something in addition to my meal plan! Even if it's just a dried fig. The end of the world, in EDs mind! I wish it was the end of the world - his world.
I can't stand having this alien thing in my head, flashing numbers and grams of fat into my mind whenever the chance arrives to do so. XX kilos, you fat *****, how could you do this to yourself? Why are you leting them make you fat. Look at you, already, at XX amount, at a BMI of 15.something, you can't afford to put on any more weight or you'll be even bigger. What? What is this!? I never used to be concerned about a number! Sure, I was always conscious of my weight and how I looked, but I've always been a little insecure about how I look. That's normal with any teenage girl. But to be so focused on what goes into my body, and what it's doing to my body... That's not healthy. That's not healthy at all.

Going out to dinner with my friends was great. But I felt like I wasn't part of the group. Everyone had food in front of them. I had a black coffee. Everyone was eating and enjoying their food - I was sitting there eyeballing their meals, and ED was having a great ol' time. I didn't feel normal. I felt... Alien. I honestly felt like I didn't belong there, like I shouldn't have been there. My stomach was feeling awful for some reason, and that didn't help. I wanted to explain myself to my friend, I wanted to open up and let him into my head. I said "I wish I could see who I really was". He didn't understand, obviously, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Who am I? I'm constantly asking myself that question. Who am I, and who would I be without ED? It's a scary thought. A really, really horrible, scary thought. And having that scare me disgusts me. How and why do I identify myself with ED? What good has ED done for me? None. None at all. But still I hold onto the thoughts and the numbers and the fear-foods as if they're worth protecting and preserving.
I've said this before, but I think I need to keep reminding myself of it. I am not a number. I am a girl - a girl with a beautiful heart and soul and mind; I have a body worth looking after and a life worth living.
To respect myself I must nourish my body. A nourished body equals a healthy, happy mind. A nourhished body and a healthy, happy mind equals a beautiful life.

These words only appear in my mind after I've been feeling like crap. I can't conjure them up during my body-image/self-respect/food meltdowns. I have been trying; but I feel like a failure.

I have a therapist appointment tomorrow. Hopefully that does something for me. Recently they haven't been helping as much as they could have. ED doesn't like these appointments because I bad mouth him. I try and get him out of my head and onto the table so I can squish him like a fly. But that's yet to actually happen. If only it would.

Perseverance is the key. Fall off the horse? Well don't just lie there, get back up on it! Falling down, or rolling backwards, doesn't mean there's no point in picking yourself up and pushing onward and upward. The dirt isn't a nice place to be - so I will pick myself up, dust myself off, and continue down the right path. The path to a healthy, happy, wonderful and enjoyable life. I'm sick of being kicked in the dirt by ED. I don't want to put up with it any more, but sometimes it just feels like the easy road out is the way to go. The easy road being ED overcoming me. But I know I can't do that. I just have to find it within me to push forward.

But words are only words. I need actions.

Love, love, love.

Uncertainty.

I cannot tell you all how much I appreciate the support and kindness I've been shown. I know I say this a lot, but it never ceases to surprise me, blow me away and bring me to tears (happy tears, happy tears!) Thank you, every one of you - without your words I wouldn't be where I am now.

♥

When I think about where I am now... I don't actually know how to describe it. To be completely honest, I don't exactly know where I am. I'm floating somewhere around the middle - on a very choppy sea of emotions. One minute the ship (me) will be on top of a wave, high up in the air, and the next minute it'll plummet down into the dark depths of the ocean. Then it'll even out... And do it all again. A rollercoaster. There's no end to the metaphores so I'll stop with that. What I'm trying to say is: I never know what to expect from myself. I wake up every morning dreading my day, because I am unsure of everything. Not just how I'm feeling or how I will feel, but what I'll do, what I'll wear, what I'll eat, what I wont eat... So much uncertainty. The uncertainty doesn't stop there, either. I'm never sure if I want to get better, or if I want to just stay where I am. The pro's and the con's list comes out... But even then, I always find  ways to trick myself out of making a decision. The mind is an extremely complex thing - I can't even figure my own mind out.
I want to organise it. Put certain things into certain places. Like how I'm going to organise, sort out, throw away and tidy my desk. I'll put the things I want to keep in one pile, the thigns I want to toss in another, then sort through the stuff I do want to keep and put them into certain places. I wish I could do that with my mind, as well as my desk. But I'm a hoarder. I can't let go of things easily. It's the same with this Disordered Eating and Thinking. I'm keeping it around because I can't bear to part with it.
Do I have a reason for keeping it around? Nope. None.
Do I need it? Nu-uh.
Why can't I let go of it, then? Beats me.
See my dillema? My inability to throw physical possessions away has transfered itself into my mind, into an inability of get rid of psychological things, too. Memories, emotions... Mental possessions. I don't want to want to hold onto ED. If that makes sense. I don't want to need ED. I'm not benefiting from it in any way. I'm only fighting with myself and fighting against the help I'm getting.

Tonight I'm going out for dinner with a group of my friends. We're saying goodbye to one of our "group" members. He's leaving tomorrow night, which is really sad, because I was only just starting to get to know him. But going out to eat is not something I do. It's not something I am comfortable with yet. I'm eating my dinner before going out... So I'll just be sitting at a table full of my friends eating. I always feel so awkward and... Abnormal. But ED delights in this. Look at what they're eating! You know you want it... You know you could just ask to taste it... But you can't! You can't, because you'll get fat! You're disgusting for wanting to try it, you fat, fat idiot. You don't deserve anything! It goes on and on and on. To make it worse, we're going out afterwards for gelati. I've never had gelati before, but I've seen the place where we're going. I'm not... Sure. Part of me wants to just have some, to be normal, to join in and just... DO IT. But ED keeps taunting me... Read above. A really prominent part of me wants to challenge myself, to challenge ED. But after being weighed, everything I put in my mouth I feel guilty about. ED screams, I scream on the inside, I cry. It's not a very nice relationship I have with myself.
Hey. You know what? I'm not going to think about it. I'm not going to worry myself over it. If I feel like a gelati, I'm going to fricken have a gelati! And ED can't do a damn thing about it. But we will see, when the time comes. But the time isn't now, so it doesn't have to be of concern.

In some ways, I feel like I've progressed. But in other ways, I feel like I've regressed. As I said before, I'm uncertain about everything. There's no one answer. If I think I've made a decision, I'll second guess it, and question it, and then I wont end up making a decision at all.

I've got my fingers crossed for a good night, tonight. And a better day tomorrow. A day without uncertainty and stress and anxiety and pressure and all the rest.
I need to relax.

Love, love, love.
♥ ♥ ♥

More.

I've been antsy since about 1pm yesterday. That happened to be the time of my Dietitian appointment, where I was weighed again. I gained 1 kilo in two weeks. Now I'm 1 kilo away from my "scary" weight. I am not in the right headspace at the moment. I'm terrified. Nervous. Putting myself down constantly. I feel guilty for eating. ED is screaming at me. I look at myself and all I see is fat - well, all ED sees is fat. ED wants me to believe that. One more kilo and I'll be huge. I'm so scared of that extra kilo... In my rational mind I know that it's probably only going to go to my bones and my muscles and my organs, and not appear physically. I know I am not defined by a number, I know that it doesn't make me any better or worse a person, it makes me a healthier person. But every time I think about getting on those scales in two weeks, I want to scream and cry and run away and hide. I don't want it, and ED's telling me I don't need it.

I talked to Mum about it before... I just want to stay on my "scary" number for a month or so, just stay stable, to get used to the feeling of being at my highest weight for a whole year. I'll only be 2 kilos away from when I was a "healthy girl", with my period.

Oh, I don't know at the moment. I KNOW I can't stay underweight. But I don't feel underweight. I feel normal. I feel like I'm fine. Healthy. But I'm not. ED wont leave me alone. He wont go away. He wont let go. I wont let go.

I've been on the verge of tears all day. I'm not feeling social, I'm not happy, I jump away whenever someone touches me. I feel unclean. I feel... I feel like I'm letting myself down, by getting to this weight? It's so disordered, I know. It's ED that I'm "letting down", not me. I'm helping myself. I'm cleaning myself of ED. ED is what's making me feel dirty, but he's trying to turn it around on me, by making me feel that the weight is what's making me dirty. Everything's so confusing at the moment. One minute I was so, so incredibly happy, and now I'm doubting myself and beating myself up.

I don't want to sound negative all the time, but if I don't voice these thoughts and feelings I go crazy. Crazier. But the support shown by you girls is just so overwhelming, and it helps. It helps more than I ever could've imagined.

ED will always try to disguise the real you. But underneath that mask he's put up, the real you is there. Always there. Taking that mask off may be the hardest, scariest, most horrible thing you ever do, but what you find underneath will be worth that pain and effort.

And we'll never be alone.

Here's to a better day tomorrow.

Love, love, love.