Thighs
Of all things in life, I am struggling with my thighs at the moment. 5% of my body, 1% if that, and yet I can't stop.
Of all things in life, I am struggling with my thighs at the moment. 5% of my body, 1% if that, and yet I can't stop.
Living with an eating disorder is like being at war - two voices in constant battle in my head, fighting to be heard.
Following a trend on Instagram is the perfect analogy of running a business - time believed to be well-spent can often allude to nothing.
There's an ‘i’ in exercise for a reason. Doing it for ourselves or the validation of others - and what if I am not in a good headspace?
Holidays are more about looking good in a bikini; until I'm loved and successful, I don’t believe I deserve it.
I am more afraid of, threatened by weekends than weekdays. Mental health ruins my capacity for fun.
I live in a constant state of worry - who will I be on the other side of recovery, and will people like me?
I am obsessed with my business but equally feel lost, depleted and unsure. Do I quit now and will I be happier for it?
I joined a co-working space to help normalise socialising and eating habits - unfortunately, I have not enjoyed one free perk yet.
Today is my friend's birthday. Not even about me and yet I feel nervous, the eating disorder like a Scarlett Letter on my dress.
I have to consciously not overthink body change. Otherwise it will get to me that I no longer look or feel how I used to.
In terms of what ‘success’ means to me - my business is far from it. And when I fail in business, I fail elsewhere.
Yoghurt is a fear food; although I took the plunge and bought one to have for dessert, I freaked out and never ate it. Here's why.
I continue to cancel or decline events and then feel sad to miss out. My choice, driven more out of fear than want.
Adjusting to body change is difficult and uncomfortable. I don't particularly like it.
What will it take for others to acknowledge and understand the extremity of an eating disorder?
Diet culture language is 'normal' - we hear it daily - and yet nobody admits to disordered thoughts. Is there really any difference?
I love Christmas - but I haven't left myself live Christmas since the eating disorder came into existence.
The eating disorder has taught me to worry. I overthink, lose sleep - and when it panics, I panic.
Sharing recovery highs is one thing - admitting to slipping up is shameful, weak, even.