Home again home again...never again

i rarely post, and I make no apologies. I love you all but inconsistentcy is one of my biggest character deficiencies

...truthfully I hate all of it...I can’t remember the last time I felt unconditionally loved by someone other than her. And that should be more than enough bc in so many ways it is. It’s a love that so many times a day I can fly. Do anything. Be anything. For her.

It’s a love so many of him(s)...okay well one, let’s call him C...demanded...punched the ground by my head when we layed in the floor of my closet in my parents house bc I didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t...give to him....

Can’t say I get the punching the ground part but I get why the support, respect, admiration means so so much. Bc it does....it means so much.

That being said...my heart has never felt so heavy. I miss my brother. I do. With all of me. I miss an easy(ish) relationship with my mom.

I miss care free evenings without a burning scratchy throat...

I miss so much...I’m home sick like a 12 year old who despite their chargrin hates to admit it that they are extremely homesick...homesick for a place that never existed...

Wrote with love and a glass of wine so forgive or don’t all the grammatical errors...


with love,
~ell

Dark and twisty

the darkness is heavy. The light is too much to bright to cheerful to...light. Everything hurts. The pain of being awake is almost more than I can handle. My mind doesn't shut off rather spins constantly as if making the loading hissing sound a mac book makes when it works to hard to load a page. The processor I believe is responsible for that right? Not sure.

But it hurts. The flashbacks hurt. The hope that still lingers in the peripheral hurts. It's hope for the future. Hope to maybe one day find my person who will stay, who will care enough to never leave. God I wish the self destruction wasn't so impossible to fight some days. Can you imagine? The ways in which we could all succeed, but we are stuck, coaxed slowly petrifying in amber, becoming stills in a photo, in a moment, in our own life. Which do you see? The putrefying of comfort or the petrifying of change. It is a dichotomy I live in often, unable to decide one way or another perpetually stuck because momentum is requires movement or choice...and unable to allow myself to retire from the race all together, dreaming in my head, and self destructing on the outside...allows some semblance of  balance while i avoid it all...the pain, the risk, myself... And that expectation to keep it up to keep achieving when we feel often we lucked into our success bc clearly it can't be any fault of our own, but the best way to avoid kicking into that kind of success. Destruct. Like a force of nature, a hurricane and tornado all in one blow sort your life and destruct and make sure your drowning in the damage and self hatred.

Good now take all that damage, and self hatred and use it to fuel your eating disorder. Perfect. You now have a glimpse, albeit a mere fraction of a glimpse, but a glimpse none of the less of what it takes to have an eating disorder.

Feelings: alone, lost, angry, sad, and just so lonely
Days since last purge: zero
Daily weigh in: 112

I hate this

With love,
Ell

Residential and what not

Im out of treatment, residential was awful, php/iop was worse. yet here i am again. Not doing so well, and planning to lose more weight.
Where is the logic?

My mind says "Hello eating disorder, I'm so sorry I gave recovery that bullshit try" sobs uncontrollably "please for give me, tell my parents im sorry, I can't look like this anymore. Recovery is not for me."
Eating disorder replies, "Oh silly girl I never left. Come here."

If anyone reads this, please say hi, if not so i'll follow your blog, but because I could really use the company.

with love,
ell

Hope Has Forsaken Me

Yes while hope may have forsaken me determination hasn't. I'm not hopeful because I know it will happen. My goals are all achievable, but I have to set my ass in motion to make them happen. The only thing standing in the way of me and my goals, is me.

Last night I felt what I think my have been a close cousin of despair. I was begging for away of of this world and as a owner of a whole bottle of aderol I could have easily got my wish, but then the voice of reason began to say if you really want out can it not wait till morning and Ed jumped sides (he is very fickle) and chimed in if you die now you will be the fat ass everyone always thought you were. It hit me. Ed was right, when I die if I have any control over it I better look hot, and at least felt like I tried to succed a little bit in life, meet at least one goal, and suddenly the voice of reason slipped out slowly and Ed held me till I felt asleep.

My therapist would hate me for saying this seeing how I let her think she has "cured" this thought out of me, but if Ed hadn't found me when I was 11yr I wouldn't be here today, and if I was by some chance I would be very alone.

Sick isn't it? My company is the voice inside my head, but at least he sticks around unlike the rest of them.

with love,
~Ell