He is leaving today.

I  have not seen him in a month, we have been over for a month. I ceased the texts 4 days ago after he had been telling me that he loves me and that he cannot bear the thought of leaving without seeing me. I declined. Will I regret it? How can I trust the sincerity of his pleas. I wish the circumstances were different, however, as it stands, I have no desire or wish to see him again nor do I have regrets regarding my decision to break up. 

I am beyond broken, hurt, bitter, I still love him and I miss him. I wonder what he is doing now, what he is wearing and I get so heavy hearted but I feel embarrassed by my own unrelenting foolishness. When does the heart cease to love? To ruminate? Is there a switch to turn it all off? God! I am getting better and worse as the days progress. Waves. No progress. Cement.

I don’t know what time his flight is, is he lugging his luggage in a busy airport wearing his black coat with the oversized collar, are we still on the same soil, is he thinking of me. I ended things a month ago. Why should all this matter? It shouldn’t, but it does. I miss him. His warm breath. Our conversations. The snippets of our relationship that I cherished. 

A quietly raging cold wind is settling in the place where he is leaving. I can’t conceal this unhinging of me. My parents are concerned about the state of me. Now they wake up?? I’m so far gone

 I spend the mornings and afternoons angry at him, telling myself he is a low life and that I’m glad I left when I finally woke up. I deceive myself that I am healing and free. I binge and purge to numb the pain. At some point during the day, that wheel of destruction comes to a screeching halt and I am left with the torture of facing myself and my unrewarding reality.

6-11 pm. These are the most difficult and darkest hours of my days. The tears, the flood of emotions, the helplessness. 

It’s 6:07pm and I don’t think I can carry on. But I must. I know I wil but for how long. Something has to give.


Do Better

I thought a series watching fest with a few biscuits and a few winter chocolates in bed would be splendid but unfortunately I was wrong. I planned out my snack all week actually, I made a date with myself tonight so I could just let go for one night and made sure the portion was one that I could handle but it’s 2:32am now and I’ve been engaging in what I can describe as a dissected binge, eat 3 biscuits then purge and so on and so forth. I’m exhausted, ashamed and just want it to be dawn so tonight’s or rather this morning’s events can fade.

I used to have a cheat day where I could eat anything I wanted on that particular day but would then restrict for the next 6 days. I was good at it for a while.

Dozing off, I’ll do better, if not tomorrow then someday

Nights like this

There are nights when I feel like I might not make it through the night, not because of anything I might do purposely but I feel as though my body will just fail me as I sleep and that will be the end of me. The end of our story- my multiple eating disorders and I. Tonight is one of those nights, I am so afraid of dying and I regret everything. I want to crawl back into my mother’s womb and start again. I feel ashamed and remorseful. I can’t contain myself, my emotions. I’m in bed and I can’t stop crying, the left side of my chest hurts and all I want is to not be alone. I have suffered from eating disorders for half of my life but now something has changed, before there was something teeming inside of my veins, a fire that burned inside of me but now I feel dead and that fire though still present has been reduced to a tiny spark, I’m all out of ideas.

Looking up it’s heart wrenching to see just how far I’ve fallen off the mountain. I’m a mess, my blood pressure must be so low because of the constant purging and that’s not doing my heart/organs any favours. My bag of tricks of crush diets, restriction rituals and all that other nonsense has run out. I’m a liar, a burden, a problem that needs fixing, lovable but you’ll find yourself exhausted from caring about me.


My stomach is in pain, a deep pain that feels like my insides have been beaten and stomped on. Purging an average of 7 times per day is wrecking more havoc on my body, I can sense an oncoming final binge and purge that will change everything. An event or some fictitious happy ending that will be so life altering I’ll completely change my ways. On the other hand it feels like I’ve given up and I’m just drifting in whichever direction the wind is blowing.

I quit the part time promo job because it wasn’t serving any purpose in my life and instead it was draining me of funds I didn’t have because the pay was ridiculously low. I didn’t work there for long but I have lacked purpose for 2 weeks since quitting. It was better when I had somewhere to be which meant less time with ED, I worked nights in a tiny uniform in heels in the freezing cold,I got diagnosed with anorexia again and it’s not exactly easy to work when you’re shivering and having heart palpitations, my blood pressure is always dangerously low and with that comes a load of health issues and in the end I wasn’t physically strong enough. That’s done, water under the bridge. Another opportunity stolen by ED and perhaps my nature of always having excuses.


It’s actually hard to eat when someone is asking you endless questions “You are eating the whole portion right?” “Is it delicious” “Really” “So I should buy more of that” “What did you eat today” etc etc. It’s already hard enough eating AND eating in front of people, just please keep quiet and let me just eat. I hate feeling observed and inspected. Eating in front of people makes me feel exposed and vulnerable. I don’t know how to eat normally so I pace myself, 95% of the time I eat alone and it usually ends in a binge and purge. I don’t know any different.

Today was messy, haphazard snacking, a binge and purge some more snacking and purging… more snacking. I can smell vomit in my nose. I ate dinner, a delicious beef pie. It’s done, I will not be on my knees abusing myself…. not tonight.

Letting Go


Christopher mckenney - Letting go

“Letting go”- Christopher Mckenney

The notion of letting go reverberates endlessly in my heart. I have so much to let go however, I am that type of person that clings on to every silly thing.

I am trying to let go of bulimia but the more I try to distance myself from it,  the more I seem to find dirt in my finger nails from holding on to it.  We are one, she and I, bound by some force. I needed her then because she seemed perfect, fitting perfectly into my life, my bright idea. I birthed a monster, the darkness that seeps from the cracks is my creation. I can’t carry her with me anymore, she is now significant and seeps into every aspect of my life, that nagging unbearable urge coursing through my veins.

Letting go – My hatred for my father which is a recurring topic on here, I have to let go of my hatred towards him, I despise him with everything that I am and all that I am not. He can’t seem to leave me alone which makes it worse, no amount of tea cups or painfully aggravating small talk could ever make up for all the turmoil he put us through growing up. He still exhibits the same abusive patterns, he is a bitter man who has such disrespect for women, an emotional abuser who thinks he is the victim never mind the knife in my back or the blood on his hands, it makes me physically ill.

I have a long way to go before I can rid myself of all these terrible afflictions and emotions, this toxic waste sitting on my lungs. I have become toxic myself, filled with so much negativity but I’m a hypocrite for not practising what I preach.

Letting go – Someday not today. Bit by bit until there is nothing left to hold on to. I guess.

Meal Dodging madness

Calm, is how I can describe today. I had a couple of coffees, fruit and a cookie. It’s almost 6pm, I should have eaten 2 meals by now but I can’t, don’t want to flip that switch in my brain. A yogurt is not just a yogurt it’s stepping on the accelerator and then the inevitable driving off the cliff. I avoided that by just not eating anything, so I’m safe, empty (the good kind).

My mum has placed an embargo on low fat/ sugar free food items- the horror of having to face full cream milk. I have to remind myself that I will survive not having aspartame filled beverages and that it’s OKAY to drink regular coke because people do drink that stuff and they’re not obese. Mum thinks I’m doing well-ish, yesterday I ate for show because she was home, she peeks into my plate, asks what I’m having, the subtle monitoring, I feel like a child.

On Saturday I went to a casting and that really derailed the “progress” I was making this past week, I was okay with skipping breakfast but having lunch at least… Celebrating small victories. Now I’m just not prepared to make that sacrifice. I can’t stop weighing and measuring myself, I want to stay the weight I was when I went to that casting on Saturday but at the same time I have to eat and be healthy, It’s fucked up! I have to stop this madness, I want life at the end of this nightmare.
I suppose modelling is not what I should be pursuing right now but if I quit my eating disorder wins and I’ll never know.

Ate an inadequate dinner of boiled veggies and meat then I panicked after eating yogurt, purged and now I’m a dehydrated,headache-y, ravenous mess. Mum is in the other room praying,I am so loved by her, my brother, my family, friends but I keep engaging in these sick and selfish behaviours that could kill me,unbearable guilt is eating me up inside. I am exhausted from all the lies.