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.