I hate it. The mirror is a cursed thing and I sometimes feel like joining Sylvia - bloody - Plath in her hatred of the mirror.
I honestly feel physically sick when I look at my naked body in the mirror. I've actually put it somewhere where I can't see it so I don't have to cry when I look at how much my body has changed in recent months.
It pains me that I am no longer the 'thinnest' and therefore feel I have failed my anorexia. It's hard to admit that, that I still feel she is my friend and that I have to please her and make her feel good by being the thinnest and eating the least while exercising the most, more than anyone else. If I don't do that then I have failed her, and she screams at me, a lot. Telling me I am useless and fat and a failure.
Today. I am a failure. I have done no exercise, whatsoever except walking round town with a bag full of binge food which doesn't really count. I did not set off for a walk today, and I feel useless and a failure. I haven't been to the gym since saturday. This is bad. But I'm sick and trying to be sensible about over exertion when unwell. But it feels so wrong. I really cannot describe how much I go against the grain when I exercise very little and still eat.
I wish hunger didn't exist. I really do wish that. I hate it and I am still, to this day, afraid of it. I feel out of control and guilty when I eat, even the tiniest thing, and even feel guilty if I have an extra cup of tea (calories in milk). Can you imagine living with that fear, all the time? This is me, every single day of my life, all I seem to think about is food and am I 'allowed' this or that or the other. Every day. Like I said, I wish hunger didn't exist.
The other day I looked in the mirror at my body and I began to cry. I genuinely feel disgusting and so, so uncomfortable in my own skin, my own flesh. I spent 40 solid minutes at my mum's house crying for what used to be what I think was a lovely body. It's not like that anymore, and it's out of control. Since I stopped going to the gym before Christmas. Now that I'm back in the gym, I feel more controlled and confident that I will be able to get back in shape. And get rid of the extra flesh there, because I honestly feel like I don't belong in my body.
It's actually worrying me how intense the feelings of hatred towards my body are. I'm worried because I haven't felt these feelings since I was 18 and began losing all that weight so quickly. I honestly feel like that again.
However... the more I feel like that, the more I seem to go against it and do the opposite of what it tells me. like not going to the gym this week, but still eating. It's almost like I do it on purpose.... this also worries me. But maybe it's a good thing? Someone advise, please! I don't understand my own head!
Is doing the opposite of what anorexia tells me a good thing? Because she does NOT like it, one bit. But I do it anyway, I think I have to. If I listen to her, basically, I am fucked. She is not my friend. No friend screams like that.
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ReplyDeleteSylvia Plath didn't hate the mirror, quite the opposite, she lauded its honesty.
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