What am I?

So these recent years, I’ve been completely honest with people that want to help. Telling them I binge/purge, telling them I take more laxatives each day, and telling them I’ll fast for as long as possible whilst living by the scales.

It’s only been recently I’ve thought ”wait a minute, you just said I’m bulimic?” I’ve denied it and I’ve had that look where they know I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me. Of course, doing it for so long, you have the sense it’s normal behaviour.

These past two weeks have really made me sit and think. Talking to the housing people, and telling them most things, because in supported accomodation, you’re better off telling them what your struggles are. I told her I binged then purged, that I took laxatives, and that I won’t eat for long periods. She turned around and went ”so you’re bulimic?” I obviously went no, I just struggle. She still wrote it down.

I was talking to the paramedics on Friday, and they turned around and went ”so you’re suffering from bulimia as well as depression and anxiety?” Obviously, again I told them I’m not bulimic, that I’m totally normal. They wrote down I was bulimic.

Becki’s always talked about ”my illness saying that”, what illness? I’m fine?

There’s parts of me that has sat here and thought ”is purging three times a day minimum normal?” ”Maybe there is something wrong?” But then I get called ‘fat’ so it’s like: ”Totally normal this is”. 

I’ve always wanted to get help with it, I’ve told Becki I want help with it, but it’s hard. There’s not a day go by where I don’t think about the perfect body. I think, the worst but is, I don’t want to put on weight, I don’t want to me deemed upon as a fat slob. 

It really is something I struggle with a lot, I say I struggle with my view of myself more then my self-harm, which is a big issue. I don’t have a clue what steps to take, and even thinking about reducing the laxative intake scares me, a lot. It’s not something I try and show… I do my best to show blank emotion so no one thinks anything. It’s difficult to tell someone you’re scared of how much you’re messing up, but harder when people tell you it’s easy to stop, when it’s really not.

Getting asked how you view yourself is always something I hate, I mean who’s going to think ”she’s a lovely positive girl”, when you describe yourself as ”a fat slob who has no friends and looks like a greasy pig” I mean, eurgh.

I hope that one day I can be able to like myself. Maybe that one day is far ahead in the future, but I really wish I could be at least half normal! 

 
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