I'm sick

I'm sick of bring treated as a second class citizen because I am not a Victoria's Secret model. 

I am sick if doing so much for my friends and just feeling used at the end. 

I am sick of feeling sad all the time.

I am just done. I want a do-over for the last 5 years. 

You

I fucking hate you. But I love you.
I wish I could stay away from you.
I deserve so much better and I am way to good for you.

Honesty?

I have returned from Christmas break and three separate people on three separate occasions have told me some variation of "Have you lost more weight?". Normally, I would politely smile, say no, but thank-you and brush it off. This tactic is no longer working. Two of the three people who have questioned me are two friends who are both actively trying to lose weight. One became extremely frustrated when I told her I haven't lost weight and said she "didn't want to hear my lies". The other did not recognize me at first. she starred blankly at me for a few minutes, then told me how I "look like a completely different person" then demanded to know my secrets. She asked me what my diet was and what kind of exorcise I do. I had no idea what to say. Unfortunately, "Don't eat. When you do eat, yakk." Is not a socially acceptable answer. Have I been at it for so long that I can't even think of a lie to tell because I'm honestly not sure what a healthy diet is? I also am becoming increasingly concerned with my reflection. It has reached a point where enough people have commented on my weight, that I know I must have lost some. The scale tells me so and my dwindling jean size tells me so too. The problem is when I look in the mirror, I genuinely don't think my body has changed. I look the exact same as I did 60 pounds and 4 sizes ago. Logically, I know this can't be true. But the mirror, that awful mirror who haunts us all tells me different...

Keep me in your thoughts lovelies, and I'll keep you in mine.

Speechless

I think I've just lost my best friend. I am not even sure If I was ever his best friend anymore. I have never wanted to be back in Halifax more, under my huge duvet where I can hide and be safe from the whole wide world and everyone in it. I am so hurt.  Am I part of some elaborate lie spanning years? Did you pretend to be my friend for so long just to get into my pants? I am so confused because I genuinely thought you liked me and enjoyed my company.  

New Lows

I know I am terrible at updating, but as I am sure, if you are reading this blog in the first place, you understand why.

Before I delve into the dirty details, I'd like to take a moment to reach out to an old friend.
Ally, I have no idea if you still check this at all, but if you are reading this, stop now. You have been so strong in recent months and achieved something much more valuable than a low number on the scale... you have regained your health. You are an inspiration and please, PLEASE, do not trigger yourself by reading more. Do not worry about me. Although my eating habits are far from normal, I am no where near as bad as I once was.

Updates on the general aspects of my life:
The formally (ex) best friend came grovelling back with his tail between his legs late summer, and things have never been better. I do not want to use the "L" word, but we may be soul mates. He is perfection to me. He is the only person capable of talking me down from the precipice and I have no doubt in my mind I'd be spending far more time with my head in the toilet without him. He gives me reasons to strive for health and gives me dreams of a long life. Most importantly, he tells me I am beautiful, and when he says it, I believe it. Even if I do not always agree, the sincerity in his compliments means everything to me. I have reached a point where I would not necessarily use the word 'beautiful' to describe myself, but I would not use the word 'disgusting' either. I was nervous to write about it before now because I am so afraid of losing him and that in itself is terrifying to me.

I have become self-reliant and fully independent. I do not want to need another person. I do not want to become somebody's 'girlfriend' like I was in high school. With dependency comes heartbreak, so for now my walls remain up. But one day, I hope he will break them down and come crashing into my life. My only fear is that he will not wait around until the day I am ready to let him in. We live 1435 km apart, and until this number (like so many other numbers in my life) is significantly less, we've agreed to remain friends (with some benefits).

Speaking of who I was in high school, I am completely and entirely over the ex. I harbour no feelings of animosity, but we simply have nothing in common anymore. We've grown up and subsequently grown apart but I whole-heartedly wish him the best and I hope he finds a girl to treat him better then I ever did, because (despite his recent behaviour) he was nothing but a gentleman and an ideal boyfriend. He deserves happiness and I hope he finds it, but I no longer wish to be apart of his life or have him in mine. Maybe this is a sign of maturity...

Sorry to rant about my life, I'm sure most of you care primarily about my relationship with food, not boys but it's my blog so I'll do what I want.

The numbers, the numbers...

I weighed myself this morning.
I am at the lowest weight I've been since the 10th grade (that's 5 years folks).
I am happy to report that since the start of the semester, I have only yakked 3 times. I know it is not perfect, but there was a point not too long ago when I was yakking 3 times a day. I am proud of my progress and all I can do is try.

That being said, I laxed yesterday. The end of semester stress seems to grab hold of me every time, and when I feel my world slipping from my control, I resort to old habits and regain control the only way I know how. I know I am harming my body, but once again i am still proud because it has been months since my last lax, and I took significantly less then I have in the past (only 5 versus my old norm of 24). I have tried to adapt an optimistic view on life and remind myself of the good things, even within my mistakes. Baby steps are everything.

Although I have been keeping my purging relatively in check, I know I do not eat enough. The struggle is very real and to anyone thinking I should simply "eat more", you haven't got a clue. i am also growing increasingly concerned that I genuinely do not see my body the way the rest of the world does. I look in the mirror and what I see does not match what I am told. Even as I pinch and pull at all the flab I wish were gone, it feels smaller than it looks. I have now lost over 50 pounds since the end of first year, but in my mirror and in my mind my body has not changed. I wish I could see myself as others do. But enough about this. I'll still keep some secrets for myself and the gory details are not for you to know, they are for me.

If you've read this far, thank-you and remember: you are a strong, beautiful, independent person who's worth is defined by so much more than numbers.
Stay strong my lovelies, I'll be back soon
Bea <3

Phuck food.

I love not eating. I'd forgotten the simple pleasure of a growling stomach and an empty bowel. I feel as though I can go on forever. I am so close to another goal I can taste it. Stay strong, my lovelies. Do whatever you need too to get through the day.

4 down and feeling good.

The first solid shit after laxing is euphoric. In other news, 4 of those 10 pounds are gone once again.