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F*cking Up

It would be two days before by birthday, but I’ve decided to boycott it this year. That’s in my own control – Christmas isn’t ‘mine’, so we could just squash bits out to make me more comfortable. Accommodate me. Isn’t everyone nice? And now that I’ve moved back in with my parents, no one make me do anything at all. Isn’t that wonderful?

I can do anything I want!

And I’ve chosen to f*ck up. When I spoke to Rebecca Park last Wednesday and heard that, basically, even when the scanner does get fixed (like, June), the trial can’t be taken forward because they have no funding to look after trial patients afterwards. To do all the checks and the adjusting of the chip, and the blind testing and everything: there’s no money. So, that means there’s no way of them telling if I (or anyone) can have it all, therefore it wouldn’t be fair to start the ethical trials either. So there’s nothing to be done. Nothing. It’s all gone, because of a machine or nothing.

Since hearing that, I’ve restarted restricting harder. Not that it’ll get me anywhere, but that wasn’t getting me anywhere either, was it?

After being weighed and discovering [TRIGGER] I’d lost 0.6kg ish in the last four days, I had a shower and peed out the contents of my bladder (I’ve done that for so long, I can’t really stop. It doesn’t even feel like I’m cheating anymore), I was feeling pleased. I was thinking lower numbers, remembering my first weigh in when I moved back here which is another 1.4kg than I am now. And so that number is in  my head. And it’s exciting to see the numbers go down! It’s such an adrenaline rush.

You’d think that after so many years, it wouldn’t feel so good. And, I suppose, it’s not as purely good as it was when my ED was younger, just because any emotion is dulled because… I’m numb? I’m immune to it? I’m starved? I can’t be bothered? I know more consequences? I’ve done it before?

I don’t know. I think I know where I am, but it’s not on the end of a cliff. I was 1.4kg lower when I first moved back in with my parents, so that makes it okay, doesn’t it? And my lowest ever weight was about… 4.5kg lower than now. So, it’s fine, isn’t it?

I think I’m just being drawn in again. My ED is irresistible. I don’t have a physical image for it, but it must be stunning, because I have come back so many times.

It’s almost my 25th birthday. This is not how I imagined by life would turn out.



Just a 25 year-old-English-gal trying to make her way through life, with all its ups and downs. I don't necessarily publish anything massively personal because I worry about triggering people big time, but if anyone has questions or memes they'd like me to do, then I'm up for it!

2 thoughts on “F*cking Up

  1. No – there is more to your life than your ED. I know the thrill of the scales going down. I’ve been an in patient – sectioned many many times. DOn’t waste away- you are ruining your looks. your skin, hair, teeth. Try turn down the volume of your ED. Do you have any interests, hobbies, ambitions, goals? You don’t need to go down this path again. You have already done it. Try and live -find some one or something to live for. I want to take away those ED critters and have them hung. I know it is a struggle but if you fight it -it will be worth it. I promise! xx


    1. Thank you. I know everything you’re saying is true, and I can say them to other people. (I’ve also been sectioned and in-patient a lot, five years is my longest stretch) Don’t you find it so much harder to persuade yourself though? Thanks for the comment 🙂 xx


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