Thinspiration

Trigger Warning! This is not a happy post. This is a very long post and may be triggering to those with an eating disorder. If unsure, please do not click the 'read more'. Don't torture yourself if you think it may be triggering. Just back away. Take care of yourself. xx

I have a confession.

Last night, I did something I’m not proud of. Something I knew was wrong. Something that was not going to make me feel better. In fact, it probably made me feel worse. But I did it anyway.

I googled thinspiration and I googled pro-ana. I spent a good hour and a half trawling through tumblrs, blogs and help sties dedicated to becoming thin and how to live with an eating disorder.

Why?

Because I was already feeling like shit and I wanted to torture myself.

How stupid.

But it’s something I do. When I feel bad, I deliberately set out to torture myself with everything that could possibly make me feel worse. I tortured myself with the pictures of beautiful bodies in skinny jeans with thighs that did not touch. With comment after comment of girls saying how they only ate one small salad (no dressing) today and how great they feel. With comment after comment of how they ‘pigged out’ and feel so bad about eating a slice of cake and how tomorrow they won’t eat anything to make up for it. And worse of all, picture after beautiful picture of smooth, flat, defined stomachs with tiny waists and no rolls, no lumps, no bulges – just gorgeous, taut skin. That was the worst. To see those stomachs and know that I used to have one like that. I used to have a waist of barely 23 inches. So beautiful.

Those pictures and comments – they made me miss the very depths of my anorexia. That tiny amount of skin. Feeling so small, delicate, light. That heady rush of power and high that came from knowing that I hadn’t eaten anything but 2 weetbix and almond milk all day. That superiority that I felt when I looked down on those lesser beings who were slaves to food – those that needed it, unlike me. I felt like I could subsist on air and power alone.

But, I know that I will never go back there. Never. That power comes at a price. The price is sadness, anxiety, depression, social isolation, always being cold, an inability to focus, a complete loss of my identity and eventually, death. They are not prices I am willing to pay. Those blogs made me sad, not just because they advertised things I will never have, but also because I felt for those behind it. Those poor staved individuals who truly believe (as I did) that this is the only way to live. To always be starving yourself, to always be comparing yourself to others, to never be truly happy, to always hate yourself and never be accepted by even your own mind.

I know that what I did last night was stupid. I made me feel worse and now all my old fears have been brought to the surface. Today, I struggled to eat breakfast. I didn’t want to. Part of me wanted to fall backwards, to regress. My anorexia said ‘stop eating. You don’t need eat. Stop eating and you will be beautiful again.’ But I didn’t listen. I used all my strength and shut that voice out. I told myself that I did need this food, I want to live a full life, not a half-life and that I am beautiful just the way I am. I am beautiful with thighs that touch, with a stomach that jiggles, with boobs that are about the size of my face, and with a butt that is round, not flat. And most of the time, I can believe that.

I loved my anorexia. I won’t lie. But I hated it too. And I can see now that it is not right. It is not a way to live life – it is a way to die. But I know I will never be free of it. I will continue to battle it, day after day. But I will fight and I will win these small battles. Because I choose happiness. I choose health. And I choose life.