​I recognise myself inside these walls, I know who I am, here. Firm roots which I felt have restrained me but now suddenly cherish. All these ornaments, this bed in which I have shed many tears in, healed in and fallen apart all over again. This bed knows all my deeds… all the darkness, gluttony and shame. And this room which knows all my secrets. This house, that chair, my chair. That rock outside, my mother, father and brother, that random cousin, this street, store, shopping centre.
 I can’t let go. It’s as though the song has not yet been fully sung. I need more time. To absorb it all. More time to cherish.

My mother, her laugh, her voice, our Saturday trips- another ritual severed. My big brother and how he reminds me of a teddy bear, so gentle, kind, patient and my best friend. The series we watched, the inside jokes, the understanding, the fights. I will miss those fights, I was always the volatile one and he remained calm.

This is the last time I will ever sleep in this bed, this house, this city, country, this continent.

I can’t process this sense of loss, this great pain that comes with change. I can hold back my tears when in a state of disbelief, it has not sunk in. It does here and there, lately the spaces between believing and not have become wider. I’m really out the door.

Is this how it feels to have wings.  Heart in stomach and on the verge of tears

My biggest dream has come true and it all happened so sudden, I don’t know what to do with all this progress, I’m not used to this. All I’ve ever known are sealed doors and the ones that close shut abruptly as soon as my foot draws near. All I’ve known are illusions and big dreams. I can’t rearrange this matter in a way that makes me believe it’s really happening.

 I wish tomorrow would take its sweet time with its arrival. I need more time inside these walls. 



​I feel hot and cold at the same time. I am sick to my stomach and dealing with digestive issues caused by anxiety and heartbreak. It’s this nausea inducing strangeness. An ocean between us and I can feel the waters suffusing my lungs. I hate this alienation or threat thereof. So unforgiving, I am trying to move on and I can’t stop looking at his pictures and reading old message threads. I should not be doing this. I know this. I know this. I know this.
He was by no means perfect and we weren’t an obvious match but there was always something about the way he followed my blood around. The most delicate and attentive man I know. He is this kind of human that evokes wonder but in all his glory, he was spineless. Still tethered to his mother’s tits. Noble in thought, weak in action. I pity him sometimes. I love him for all he is and for what he is not but he never dared to fight for us and our relationship which wasn’t “allowed” in his system. Bullshit. He never fought for us because he didn’t want to. I did not fit the criteria. My race was all wrong, this was something I later came to find out. It was never about religion. Of course he vehemently denied this.

He tells me these things, how he wishes more than anything he could be with me forever. How he wants to wake up next to me every morning, have children and how he loves me more than I know. All these declarations, I tuck them inside this heart of mine but does it even matter, he still left. I thought he would come after me when I broke up with him. I gave him an implicit ultimatum- and that is to give me more- I no longer wanted to hide, I wanted to be with him in the eyes of all but he never flinched and I was out the door. He still kept banging down my door, in secret of course. He gives the impression of a man backed into a corner, so he can fulfil his traditional parent’s wishes and marry someone of his own kind. They would disown him he said. What a fable. Spineless.

Today is our anniversary. I was overly emotional at first now just spacey. My stomach is detached from my mouth and appetite. I can eat and enjoy but I feel sick. I used an old lotion I used to apply when we were together and that was how the landslide started this morning. I went back to our Saturday afternoons.


​​​I feel as though I am loosening and falling apart at the edges. I had it. Mid month, I had it. That calmness, that rage and everything inbetween. I could place my emotions and name them. Lately I have been feeling like I threw myself back into the storm and I am losing it. Whatever I had mid month, I lost it.  I recognise this feeling, it’s this lost in Siberia, stinging abandonment & helplessness that morphs into bitterness feeling. I recognise this feeling and I know it has no life but I can’t let go.

I am on the verge of great change, something big is happening in a matter of days and now is not the time to feel this way. I need to be in a place where I can celebrate and anticipate my forthcoming breakthrough and be mentally present for my family but I can’t stop fixating on him and what may be going through his mind and if he really has loosened his grip. 

He told me about his new job over there and I felt that freezing sensation under my skin again and my hands became Jittery. It’s knowing he is sowing firm roots over there, that is what sends me over the edge. It’s another nail in the he really is gone for good coffin.The sad truth and this is my confession, I would give up all the things coming my way soon if I could get to be with this man and build a home with him.

Still a thousand kilometres apart, I feel like I am losing him again and I am beginning to feel the familiar ache that comes with him and all the motions we go through. I opened a healing wound, opened up my heart and its not like I could not see through the veneer of make belief & the screaming impermanence but at that moment and those days it felt so good. To talk for hours, to share, confess. Even with the distance I sometimes felt him beside me, this other day I felt him breathing beside me but it was all just a dream. This yearning runs deep.

You receive what you return, and I felt that no matter what the circumstances at least the mutual love was there. This singularity. Suppose all of this is rationalisation, easier on the heart, holding on to the idea rather than fully accepting it for what it is. Over.

Unchanging Change

I have been seeing some changes in my daily life though it hasn’t been that much to really cause an effect but there has been that shift that change in the way the wind blows, I’m still not certain of the direction but I just know that it’s different. Amidst this change there’s also been a state of unchange in the way I keep perpetuating these wretched bulimic rituals.

My weekends are more occupied with things, last weekend I worked as a promo model and I got paid which was amazing, it would have been more amazing had I not collapsed and some girl had to run around and look for an energy bar and an energy drink. I just felt so typical, starving model collapsing huh! The call for the job was short notice and I had binged and purged the whole week so obviously standing the whole day was going to have it’s toll on me. I couldn’t even finish the damn energy bar because it was a calorie rich little piece of hell, I can’t carry on like this.

I can’t B/P then restrict AND pursue my childhood dream and I can’t eat normal meals either because a) I don’t know how b) I’ll get fat. I just feel so conflicted, I can’t let bulimia rob me of yet another opportunity but it’s hard trying to prevail when all that fuels you is the thought of experiencing that thrill when jamming goodies down your throat and then purging it. It’s some sort of high, I feel some people smoke a cigarette to take the edge off, some have a beer, some do drugs.. I need to binge and purge to take the edge off.

Tomorrow is a big day, I’m going for a casting and I’m wrecked with self doubt and that general feeling of “do I really really want this”, of course I do but I’m good at talking myself out of things because the easy way is all I’ve known but I can’t do that anymore. I should be careful of using that term-model-because though that’s what I’m trying to pursue I am not a model not by a long shot, waddling in heels and wearing red lipstick does not cut it, I need practice. I hope I’ll get there, I don’t wanna be some big shot model.. I just want a bite of a piece of the pie and if it so turns out I can have the whole slice then I’ll be the gladdest thing under the sun.

On embracing Christmas

Feeling better and better, the anxiety likes to creep up just when I think I’m doing okay but it’s manageable not like before when I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust.

This year I don’t mind Christmas, I wouldn’t go as far as saying I am looking forward to it but I’m not feeling like the Grinch or anything though that may be subject to change as I never know how I’ll feel about something later on because of mood swings.

My hate for Christmas wasn’t hating it for its own sake but for the fact that even though I tried to embrace it.. It would never fill my emptiness so what then would be the point in participating in something that would remind me of what I lack and what I am not, I would rather show my disdain towards it and spare myself whatever raw hedious emotion would be awakened.

Christmas in all honesty means anger because of all the meals you can’t enjoy, the stares from family members, the pain when they comment anything about your weight, being the center of attraction at meal times and your ED being the topic of discussion at some point, you picking at your food while aunt Loice comments something about your hips and all that and more ending with you in your room when it’s all over and you’re elbow deep in food feeding your empty and purging all night.

This year I feel like IT is possible whatever IT is, maybe laughter in front a fireplace sipping on coffee is possible without the underlying self doubt and worry that gnaws away at me always, maybe IT is a day out wearing a summer dress and not feeling like I need to hide myself because I would have found a new appreciation of the body that I have abused for over a decade but has never failed me even though I don’t deserve it or maybe IT is a wholesome meal shared with family and not an ounce of guilt creeping in. I never dare to be optimistic when it comes to my eating disorder because I just don’t see how I’ll get out though I want to.

Though most days I find myself hovering in the grey, I’ll sing along to jingle bells when I hear it in the mall or supermarket, the sky won’t break I’ll try to embrace IT but not too far I’ve done this hoping thing before and in my experience it was like poison in my bones in the way it turns into bitterness when you don’t get the ends you desired.

I pray this feeling will stay for a little while, I just have to find the control to stop bingeing and purging… so worn out but not as down and out as usual and to be honest I’ll take this feeling any day… could be worse, I know how dark it can get and just how much daylight can burn


It’s a few hours before my birthday and it feels like the countdown to doomsday. I always use this day to reflect on what has happened during the past 12 months and every year it’s always the same bundle of issues but this year though one thing has changed and that is the way I am more open to the world around me, I am still closed off and more guarded than most but if I summon enough courage I am not as afraid of diving in as I was before.

Bulimia has been the worst it has ever been in a long time and I have become more efficient in being disordered, I am fearless and it’s this unbridled bingeing-purging frenzy and I don’t know where this new upgraded version of this disorder came from. I am 2 days binge and purge free and that is an accomplishment.

My mum asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I could not for the life of me figure out what it is that I want, you see acquiring material possessions does not excite me anymore because all I want in life at this stage is an experience. I used to get so excited over buying that new phone with a massive screen or those sick boots but now it does not enhance my emotional well being in any way. I have grown apathetic towards things that used to fill me with happiness even if it was short-lived. This is because I want one thing in life and one thing only and that is to create a life for myself somewhere far away from here, so anything else that might seem great I have no interest and I can’t shake off that feeling.
I am unmoved by the things that ought to induce well-being or even real joy but shaken and stirred by the things that bring sadness, it’s a though my brain is in self-destruct mode.

I am not interested in the joy that might come from taking the path life is pushing me into, a path I did not intend on taking because I feel that joy will not be real or it will be a certain kind of joy though genuine it will not be fit for me, I want to take the path that is in my head, the one that I truly intend on taking and what happiness will come will be real because it will be what I intended. What I envisioned.

I don’t know what the plans for tomorrow will be, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it… I just want for it to be acknowledged and for people to make the right amount of fuss, enough to make it feel like a different day but not so much it starts making me sad. 23. Turning 23 I can’t believe it but I feel calmer than I was last year.


Bulimia and I are holding on to each other, each time I open my mouth to consume something a signal is sent to my brain and a feeding frenzy commences. My body feels abused as it should, the mind is full of thoughts.. my veins are filled with caffeine and indifference. 50 days until 2015 and what I have excelled at besides perpetuating these behaviours. I am violently craving self-improvement, I want to be the person I envision myself to be.. I want to awaken the shell of a person I have become and build a better version of me but I don’t have the parts to build anything.

Words can’t fully express the state of having the WILL within every fibre of your being you can feel it buzzing in your fingers but there’s no WAY and so the motivation dies a slow painful death. The world will not build a pathway to your door but I am trying can’t the universe meet me halfway. Hard work+luck = success so they say and it’s evident in my case luck is definitely missing from the equation.