It hurts so much. So fucking much. Seeing your best friend happy. I know that makes no sense. Let me rephrase; seeing your best friend happy with everyone but you. You know what also hurts- seeing your family become more and more tense each day, with silence and cold stares being the only daily exchange. It hurts that I thought recovery was going okay. I've not had urges to get myself until now. I've gained weight- a lot of it. I have an anorexic mind not an anorexic body- and it's a weird dysmorphia seeing my body change, gaining and losing weight. I just want to be thin again- light, free, less bloated, not round, not wobbly. I just wish my best friend knew. Tonight may be a relapse, and I'll come back tomorrow like "OMG recovery yay". The truth is I'm so tired- tired of this. The ups are great and every up has a down, each time getting further and further down. Recovery isn't linear, I know that. But I'm well and truly done. People are moving on, friends are forgetting me. More than EVER I want to be out spending time with them but my OCD is keeping me a hostage in my own mind. I want my best friend back, to be remembered, to be invited out, to have good times rather than just the bad times alone in my bedroom crying. That's what hurts.
YOU ARE READING
Curiosity Cures; Curiosity Kills
Non-FictionA book about the ups and downs of whatever is happening, and a places for me to show you my pictures ? if any parts are perhaps triggering, there I'll be a warning at the beginning of the chapter with ⚠️ so you can just skip past x
