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Fucking Eating Disorders

(aaaaand I’m back! Still been reading your blogs guys! So pleased for some of you, and for everyone else, just hang in there, ‘kay? I’m told things will get better.)

So, I’m off to a wedding today. A big, posh one. Hooray.

 

fpt-112704-wedding-flowers

Except, typical me, I don’t want to go. I’m scared of posh. It’s a three + hour drive away for one. And I won’t know 98% of the people. And I’m tired. And we’ll get back late, so I’ll worry about the cats. And it’s not really warm enough for my liking. And the whole eating situation will be difficult. And everyone gets nervous about big events, right?

WRONG.

(Trigger warning, I guess. I think people can be triggered by anything if they want to be though, so it’s a difficult one.)

 

Okay, so those are some of the reasons.

The main thing I’m worried about?

WILL I BE THE FUCKING THINNEST? WILL PEOPLE STILL KNOW THAT I’M ILL?

I HATE this. I am NOT that person. I genuinely didn’t care about appearance before my ED. Not in a ‘I won’t bother because it’s too challenging,’ I literally didn’t care. I didn’t notice. People would describe someone to me by what they were wearing or something, and I just hadn’t picked up on it. People got offended when I didn’t notice their new hair cut, or amazing new top, or make-up or whatever. I wasn’t being mean, or unobservant, it just really wasn’t part of my life.

Now, I’m obsessed.

The bride has an ED; I met her in hospital. I have one other friend I’ve seen since that particular hospital who’s okay-ish. As is the bride. They’re certainly not in recovery, but they’re managing. For god’s sake: one’s getting married, and one’s at uni – they can’t be doing any shittier than me?

But then, who am I to say that? I know how they think because they talk to me, and there’s still fuckloads of ED stuff there. But they’re living their lives as well so they’ve managed some form of ‘recovery’ or whatever they choose to call it.

Then, there’s the people I haven’t seen.

One, LS, is doing fantastically. (On the outside, but I believe it’s all genuine). She’s just got her badge to be a psychiatric nurse. She’s got married (I was invited as a last minute, ‘whoops, forget her’ and I couldn’t go. It hurt she forgot me when she remembered some other people she wasn’t as close to.)

I think RT will be there. As far as I know she isn’t well. She went to the bride’s birthday party this year, came late, ordered loads of food, then went to the toilet, then left. (Without paying incidentally).

And I know LM is invited. I guess… our EDs clashed. I tried so hard for her to like me, but it wasn’t happening. We were competing to be the most ill I think. And, at the time, we were both pretty damn ill. She was beautiful and tiny. (This is not pro-ana, I’m just saying how I feel.) And I know she’s been in and out (more in) of hospitals since I moved back in with my parents. So IF she comes (she might be in hospital, not sure if sectioned or not), she’s still going to be beautiful and tiny. And I suppose she’ll still hate me.

I don’t hate her. I hate her ED. They hated each other, because we were in too similar a position. (Although she was voluntary at that point I believe.) I heard on the grapevine she’s doing badly.

I don’t know who else will be there. But I’ve been told I’m on a table with ‘people I know.’ A table? But I don’t eat solid food! She knows that. How the fuck am I gonna make other eating-disordered people feel if I sit there with nothing? I don’t want to set anyone back.

And what will people say to me? I think I’m probably around the same size last time they saw me (three ish years ago), but I don’t know. I can’t find the stats. And I shouldn’t want to. For fuck’s sake this is LC’s wedding day, and all I can think about is whether I’ll be thin enough to be the ‘most ill.’ People will assume I’m better (than I was) because I’ve been out of hospital almost eighteen months (that hurts to write, let alone say.) But… well, things have changed actually, though I was about to say they haven’t. Some better, some worse. But the things people will see are the ‘better’ things. I’m allowed out. I’m not in a wheelchair. I have hair. I probably have a teeny-bit more colour after the summer, which naturally makes people look healthier. I’ll be wearing a dress so they won’t know what size I am. I haven’t OD-ed for a while of self harmed for even longer. A lot of my rituals have changed (though they won’t know that.)

BUT THIS IS A WEDDING.

I need to leave my ED behind. I’m so scared. I’ve been on edge all week. How will this work? Am I wearing the right thing.

NO. That’s not what I should be thinking about. I should be thinking about LC and what an amazing day she should have. My God, she deserves it. But I’m too self-obsessed to think beyond my shallow worries about being the illest.

I wasn’t competitive til my ED. I hate admitting it, but I am with my ED. Not everyone is, but some people are. I am. I hate it.

Right. This day has to be okay. I can go there and feel shit or I can go there are try to put all this behind me.

Either way, it has to not impact on LC. Although it’s such a big wedding, I dunno if I’ll even see her. It’d be better to put it behind me, but how? HOW?

I don’t want to go. I want to pull out. She’d understand, I know she would. But that’s not the point. I need to brave.

I know (most) girls obsess about their looks, but I don’t. Didn’t.

I hate this.

 

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Author:

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!

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