Well. Here we are. My pathetic journey of self-recovery. As of now, I weigh a whopping 70 lb. And no, I'm not fucking bragging. Suffering an ED isn't anything to brag about. So thanks for assuming that if you did.
At the moment, the only person who's been right at my side giving me any encouragement is my dog. That dumb dog. Ah, animals. What did we do to deserve them?
Why am I posting this? I'm not sure. Maybe to inspire some people to get better. Maybe to spread awareness. Not sure yet.
About six weeks ago, I weighed at 65 lb. That was about when I left the hospital after being stabilized. But I didn't just gain 5 lb. in six weeks; it was a bit of a slippery slope. I gained some, lost some. The point is, it took work. And my situation isn't making it easy to remain at a healthy weight.
But I'm learning. Slowly, but surely. I've had conflicts with food every time I had conflicts with myself and other people. It's always been that way, and it has severely affected my mental health.
But while food can be an enemy, I've learned that it can be a friend. Food can be comforting. Filling. Hell, it helps when I'm bored out of my mind. But only in healthy portions.
See? Learning.
YOU ARE READING
This Little Book of Mine
SonstigesA collection of short stories and stuff based on real life experiences. *Trigger warning.*
