the worst part of the day when fighting anorexia is getting in bed and knowing that all that food you've had all day, still inside you, is slowly turning into either fat or shit. there's this lingering shame and self-disgust that just overtakes everything else.
at that moment, it doesn't matter what others told you, it doesn't matter that you know on a rational level that you're underweight, it doesn't matter that you know how bad fatphobia is, because you're just consumed by this fear, this certitude, that you're getting even fatter, and that that somehow makes you unworthy. you're a disgusting slut who can't help herself from eating like a pig and you deserve to die alone, hiding in a corner so nobody can see your grotesquely bloated shape.
and you KNOW it's awful to have those thoughts, on so many levels, and you KNOW it has no basis in reality, but you still have them, and they overpower everything.
as far as my sick mind is concerned, fasting is pure, it's clean, while any amount of eating is defiling yourself. it's falling prey to your base instincts. it's betraying your soul and tainting it. if you eat you're just a mindless beast.
i do hope these nightly intrusive thoughts get better quickly.
(Oh just to be clear, i'm posting all this as a way to document the healing process, and i've decided to lower my filters so people can know how anorexia feels. Most sufferers are very secretive, and it's a difficult disease to understand from the outside. So really, you don't need to voice your support on each of these posts or send me hugs. I'm healing, and I've got a support network already. This is meant as informative, not as a way to fish for attention)