Funny, no?

I rarely ever write this, but please, if you are sensitive to triggers, skip this one.

Do you know that moment where you binge for three days (and nights) straight? The moment where your new, biggest desire is no longer to lose a few pounds but to go to sleep and not wake up ever again? Or if you do, to never do it again and from tomorrow live perfectly happily and healthily and with that goal immediately setting yourself up for disappointment and therefore disaster again?

Do you know that moment where, for three days (and nights), you eat two bananas and drink liters of coffee to keep you warm and going?

Do you know that moment where the cold and misery of restriction so curiously changes into mad-happiness, alertness and over excitement?

Do you know that moment where you walk home, swearing to not do anything ‘stupid’ (read; eat) when you come home, and somehow find yourself at the check-out  holding a full bag of ‘groceries’ (binge favs) you really don’t want?

Do you know that moment where you get those ‘groceries’ from the counter, and almost fall over because your balance is completely off due to the fact you haven’t eaten in days?

And the moment where your face is covered in pimples again? Because even though some people may say and believe pimples are caused by eating chocolate, not eating chocolate (and anything else), ironically, does just that too?

Oh my, oh my. Has the past week been a rollercoaster ride..

I wish I could say those silly eating disordered behaviours and thoughts are in my past now, but apparently, they’re not. After three days (and nights) of bingeing, I was gonna ‘start fresh’ on Monday. I, having an eating disorder, of course, overdid it and went straight into restriction mode for three days straight.

Funny how that happens, no?

I was gonna start ‘over’ and ‘do well’. Yet I do the opposite.

When I somehow, just for one day, manage to pull off to under-eat, I can’t flip the switch and to actually start to do ‘good’. Good means good eating. And that would just ‘be a waste’, right? A waste of the restriction.

So, the next day, I will ‘start again’. ‘Do well’. But, again, I notice I can restrict some more. So hey, wouldn’t it be a shame to not do just that, then? I did binge for three days, so sure two days of not eating isn’t all that bad, right?

And then somehow, you manage to do not eat again for the third day following?

And the ‘I never wanna wake up again’ feeling from after the three-day-binge turns into a manic ‘oh I can take over the world solo’-high.

The anorectic high.

And maaaaan, I haven’t felt this awesome in so long!

And then, as I walk home and some guys comment on how awesome I look and I feel that, yeah, my tummy is tighter than it was three days ago, the world suddenly moves under my feet.

While my body wasn’t giving me my usual hunger-signs (growling stomach, bad temper, bad concentration, blue lips and nails, etc), I felt my balance go ‘off’. In the bookstore I almost hit the floor. My eyes went black, and so did my memory. I don’t remember walking home; I do remember sitting at my table with a bag of candy that I bought at the bookstore instead of the book I was looking for.

Again; funny how that happens, no?

Honestly? I thought I felt better the past two days as I had in a week. My stomach felt tighter. Plus, I felt like I could conquer the world again. Then I realized this was my anorectic high. The high where I think I look good because of the tummy-thing, but my eyes look hollow again (I got several comments, and this was only on my second day of restriction. My lord, how my eyes betray me). The high where, even though I feel like I’ve got it all together, I’m really not productive or making sense of anything. The high where, on my way to Uni, I really just wanna turn around and go home because of the uncomfy heebeejeebees creeping up. The anorectic heebeejeebees. The high where I lie awake for hours and hours because bedtime is super-early (when I’m in bed, I’m not in the kitchen), though I know I won’t be able to sleep anyway because, hey, I’m in my super-alert-anorexia-state.

Tomorrow is my day off. A day off, in my own house, with a filled kitchen, after three days of fasting.

Already looking forward to that………..

Funny how that happens. No?