No more hospitals.
No more self-injury.
Only one psych med now.
No more purging, and I fight like hell every day to feed my body. Before, I felt like I had nothing and was nothing. It's not like that anymore.
It's not all sunshine and rainbows. I still struggle, and I think I always will. Some days are worse than others. I damaged my body a lot, and most of the damage is permanent. I am a 25 year old woman with the organs of a 65 year old, and I am too terrified to have a bone scan. I know they're in bad shape, but I don't want to know just how bad. My body turned on me, developed chronic pain and autoimmune problems that are finally being addressed now.
I get so tired of fighting, it's exhausting sometimes, but I won't stop. I refuse to go back to the suffocating darkness, to the upside-down world of scales and razors and toilets and fear and hospitals and being dead inside while wearing a painted smile in an attempt to hide the horrors within.
I am alive. I am happy. I am doing okay. Never thought I'd ever be able to say that. I'm glad I can now.
I don't know if I'll be back here... but if any of you wish to contact me, you can do so at firstname.lastname@example.org. I don't regularly blog anywhere. I wish you all the best.