Having an ed is to be stuck in a cycle of waiting. Waiting for my next meal. Waiting for my fast to end. Waiting to check my weight. It’s fucking boring and exhausting
I’ve lost over 1kg this week and I feel so in control but not at the same time, like this disorder is really destroying me and I can see it happen in real time, but other times it romanticises the starvation and I feel infinite.
And there is something sick and twisted in my brain that revels in the fact that I am still the skinniest as a way to try and cope with the fact that my life is so lonely.
I’m going to start doing at home workouts again, and although I was scared of losing muscle mass, I can still be lean and “strong”, or as strong as you can be when you always feel on the brink of passing out from restricting.
Crazy how your ed can manipulate your mind into believing things. I love my muscles and being strong, yet I am suddenly convinced quitting the gym is the best thing for me. I mean yes I will be saving money but I also will be able to be more disordered with exercise.
I almost passed out one too many times last night while with my friends, and it felt all too familiar to the time I fasted for 2 days and a half and then almost passed out on a main road.