Prologue

Recovery is not easy. It's going to be very hard, but I will do it, no matter how long it takes. Recently, I decided to force myself to change my mindset and think about the direction my health was going in. This morning, Tuesday November 10, 2020, I was 93.75 pounds, and 5' 6". I was so concerned with the scale that I hurt my tongue because I was chewing so many Icebreakers to try and spit out the weight. I also wore multiple jackets and sat in front of a heater turned up to maximum to try and desperately sweat out those final ounces. Just so I could be happy with the number on the scale.

This will be the last time. My health has been suffering and it needs to stop, or else I legitimately think I could die. My fingernails have been blue for weeks, my hips hurt when I sit down or when I sleep. My chest hurts sometimes and it's hard to breathe. I can barely keep my eyes open sometimes, during the day, yet struggle to fall asleep at night. My hands and feet, and now my entire body, are constantly freezing cold. When I go outside to walk, I need to wear 3 jackets and 3 pairs of pants, a beanie, a mask and gloves, and I'm still freezing. And speaking of walking, yesterday I could barely walk. My knees hurt and I had to go super slowly. I'm out of energy. I'm tired. I'm weary. My stomach cramps up in hunger pains sometimes, my bowel movements are constipated, infrequent, and irregular. I get lightheaded very easily, and standing up or sitting down too quickly makes my head feel dizzy. Sometimes I can't sleep at night because I can't stop thinking of foods I want to eat. Other times, I can fast for hours or even a day and not feel anything. 

My BMI is somewhere from 14.9-15.1, depending on what my exact height is. I have taken pictures of me and I look gaunt, tired, and skeletal. Yet I feel like I still have more to lose. I must have more to lose.

It has been said that a person is their own harshest critic, and I think that's even more true when you're anorexic. And for the past 3 months, I've done nothing but tell myself I'm too bulky, too masculine, too ugly, too big, too fat, too muscular. And I need to lose more weight. Never stop. 100 pounds? not good enough. Try 95, no 93, no 90, no 89 pounds. 

But not anymore, because today is the day that I start my journey of recovering from anorexia. And I will fight to make sure that this is the last time I need to recover. If I relapse, I will seek professional help, but hopefully, I won't relapse. I'm starting a food journal because I love food and being a gourmand, and also because I want to keep myself accountable on my recovery journey. If you are struggling, I hope that I can inspire you to recover, although I'm not anywhere close to perfect or the best role model. But I will try my best to be consistent and stay on the path to recovery.