So I have pneumonia, I’m sick, I feel like crap, I’m exhausted….

And I decided to purge.

Now I’m coughing incessantly because my throat was irritated to begin with and I feel horrible. I’m dizzy and lightheaded. Why did I do that?

You’re the reason why I want this. You’re the reason that I feel like I need to get my life together, that I need to go to treatment and figure out how to live normally. I don’t want you be your crazy, needy girlfriend. I don’t want to cry every time I see you, I don’t want to avoid hanging out with your friends because of my anxiety, I don’t want to live like this anymore.

I could see you and I being together for a long time…as long as I can figure my own life out. I’m not saying I’m looking into treatment for you… I’m saying I’m looking into treatment because you’ve made me realize that there’s a life worth living…that I can be in a happy relationship, that maybe I do want kids one day…that maybe there’s more to life than this. I’ve never felt that way before. Yes, I’m doing it a little for you…but I’m doing it for me for you. I want to be okay because I want us to be okay. I want to be okay so we can be happy and see where this relationship goes, so that if we do break up it’s not because of the disorder… it’s a real reason. I don’t want to ever spend my life wondering what our relationship would have been without my eating disorder.

I’m going to do this. I love you.

Love,

Me

cranquis:

theemmyjames:

it’s waking up from a restless night of sleep, bracing yourself to face the day.
it’s willing your body to make it two more steps, so you can brush your teeth.
it’s compromising looking decent for having a bit more energy.
it’s realizing how tired you are…and it’s only nine in the morning.

it’s trying desperately to focus on your professor’s words.
it’s constant shifting to try and get a bit more comfortable.
it’s holding back the tears as you remember that meeting.
it’s nap time, because without it you would collapse.

it’s telling people no, not because you don’t want to but because you can’t.
it’s always feeling like you’ve let someone down.
it’s nagging pressure to try and act normal.
it’s your body shutting down when you do that.

it’s a phone book’s worth of doctor’s office numbers.
it’s lab work every month.
it’s eight, ten, twelve pills a day (or more).
it’s hoping and praying that this new treatment is effective.

it’s looking normal but knowing you’re not.
it’s judgmental glares from strangers when you take the elevator, not the stairs.
it’s misunderstanding from friends who truly do care.
it’s not fair, but you deal.

it’s giving up the life you thought you’d have because you can’t physically do it.
it’s seeing other people happy and healthy and wanting it for yourself.
it’s emotional and physical pain, twenty-four seven.
it’s wishing it would all go away.

it’s hearing you’ll never be able to have children.
it’s feeling inadequate and invisible.
it’s wanting what you’ll never have.
it’s the worry that something else will pop up. 

it’s fibro and lupus and hashimoto’s and crohn’s.
it’s CFS and PCOS and CAH and RA. 
it’s endometriosis and celiac and cushing’s and MS.
it’s chronic illness, and it’s your life.

In honor of all the unseen and underestimated.

(And almost on time for World Arthritis Day, 10/12/12)

(via kidsontherunnn)

Aimee Liu, Gaining: The Truth About Life After Eating Disorders (via theclawsthatcatch)

(via alexaarae)

I’m struggling today. I ate a decent amount. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I’m trying to follow the plan that I promised myself (and him) I would.

But now the body image problems are just getting worse.

I feel fat, overweight, obese. I feel worthless. I don’t feel good enough. I want to hide in sweats until I get back to a weight that I’m okay with.

Why do I do this to myself. Why am I letting myself drown in the thoughts?

Lately, I feel terrible about everything going on with boyfriend. I’m dragging him down, stressing him out and putting him in a difficult place. I’ve been in and out of the hospital, I’ve been exhausted any time we see each other and I’ve been incredibly emotional. I don’t think there’s been a time I’ve been with him in the past few weeks that I didn’t cry at some point. It’s been difficult for him. But at the same time, my medical problems have been so much worse, I feel like I have a right to feel this way. My body is falling apart and all of the kidney and heart issues are having a lot of implications, even neurological ones, which are causing me to be even crazier than normal.

He hasn’t come to the hospital with me. I’ve never asked him, but he’s only ever offered once. I don’t think I’d be upset about it if I wasn’t genuinely afraid that I might not make it out of there one day. Once I’m out of the hospital, he acts like I’m all of a sudden supposed to feel better. Last time, he thought that I was upset about something, thinking I was mad at him and wouldn’t accept that I was honestly just drained and in pain. Maybe he’s just not accepting that I’m as sick as I am, but sometimes it feels like he doesn’t care.

I feel like most of it is probably that this is too much for me to deal with, and I don’t know how to handle any of it. But the other night, he pointed something out to me. “Meghan, you have never once, in the course of our relationship, said ‘Babe, I need you right now.’”

I denied it, thought back trying to remember a time that I did…and I never have. I always wait for him to ask to hang out, I wait for him to ask what’s wrong, I wait until he needs something. I never tell him when I really just don’t want to be alone, when I just need to be with him or I need him to help me through something.

Maybe I’d be happier in this relationship if I was just honest about what I needed. He said that same day that he saw me as too independent, that he kind of almost needs someone that’s needy because he so rarely feels needed…and he’s left feeling lonely. I am needy. I am a little desperate for affection…but I’ll never admit it. Maybe that’s why I’m so unhappy…because I’m guaranteeing that I’ll never have what I want or need.

So I guess this means that the issue isn’t our relationship, it’s just that I’m never honest about what I need. I keep considering breaking up with him, but I’m in love with him and I know that a lot of this is him not knowing what to do because I won’t clue him in… maybe I just don’t know what I want.

Sorry for the ramble, guys. More on the medical stuff when the doctors actually decide to tell me something.

Marya Hornbacher, Wasted. (via lifetastesbetterthanskinnyfeels)

(via turnmetogold)

I don’t know what’s a self-esteem thing, what’s a real concern. I don’t know if my feelings of inadequacy in my relationship is legitimate or if there really is an issue there.

I don’t know if I want to break up with him for solely disordered reasons or if the relationship really just isn’t okay anymore.

I hate this.

And I’m kind of having a panic attack about it. I’m freaking out. I’m taking a lot of credits, doing research, want to have a social life at some point… but because of the way I’ve been struggling lately, I feel like this semester is going to end up incredibly difficult for me.

I’m really nervous. I was like crying last night about the fact that I already have so much to do. I don’t know how I’m going to get through all of it, to be honest. I know I’m relatively intelligent, but 19 credits is a lot. I don’t even know if psych is what I want to do anymore. I feel like people look at me like I’m an idiot when I tell them I’m studying psychology. Maybe I am an idiot. I don’t know. Either way, I’m really nervous about the transition back into school.

I feel like my schedule makes it really easy to fall into old bad habits. I have two, hour-long breaks, one at 11 and one at 1. I feel like I won’t end up eating lunch, I’ll probably have coffee. It just allows for so much room for messing up. He’s pushing for me to have lunch with him or with my friend during one of my breaks but I really don’t want to. This entire weekend was a binge frenzy and it freaked me out. I gained weight. I hate this.

I kept promising him that it would never get this way, but it did. I promised I’d never be under 110 105 100. I promised I’d never be underweight, but as of today, I am. I promised I’d stop if he told me it got too far, but I didn’t. I promised I wouldn’t lose weight to the point where my body scared him more than turned him on, but I did. I promised I wouldn’t put myself at risk, but I am.

It’s funny because outside of the disorder, I don’t break promises. I’m a good friend, I stick to my word, I’m loyal and trustworthy. This disorder changes who you are.