After attempting to recover from my ED, I’m slipping back. Everyday would be a “I need to lose so and so kilograms, I need to be this thin”

Screw everything. I’m sick of not being happy with my image. I’m sick of not being able to just be subconsciously keeping my weight ok. I hate this!

I don’t wanna slip back into my disorder, I wanna get out of it. There’s nothing appealing about stick thin legs anymore, nor jutting bones that make me look like a freakish starved animal. I just want collarbones and a bit of spine and rib and hip to be comforted. Oh yeah, and at least a thigh gap. I want to eat what I want and exercise, I wanna be healthy and laughing and not a depressed skeleton looking at the mirror.

I hate all of this. Why is it so hard to be happy with my own body? Screw my life!

It’s like a dead end, there’s almost no hope of reconciliation. Even if feelings are there, the pride, dignity and everything is ravaged, damaged, destroyed.

I begged, I pleaded, I cried, I didn’t eat. I was a walking corpse, I didn’t talk, like a ghost. I couldn’t sleep, nightmares after nightmares raped and ripped me.

I loved you so much, yet you treated me like trash. And the whole world was there to witness it. i gave my all and was rejected like a draft, like a disposable.

I’m trying so hard to claw my way out and up to the top again, and beyond. I’m becoming all brand new, me plus all the happiness and minus all the disorders.

You could be standing right next to me now, us being happier, more in love. You would be so proud, kissing me full on the lips, joy lighting in both our eyes, grins so wide it beats the Cheshire cat.

Yet you decided to throw me before i could reach my potential.

Was it worth it?

Now my eyes are wide open to the person you really are, and at the progress i’m going, I will not accept you as you are now. I will not accept you until you’ve made as much progress as I had. Not even as a friend would I accept you, because you cannot even help yourself. It made me see that we wouldn’t have gone anywhere because we pull each other down.

I wish i can fall in love with you all over again, but this time, if it happens, i’m never going to do most of the work like I did last time. Women are selectors, not selectees. We don’t need to work for the chase, the alpha males do. Like in the animal world. All I/we need to do is to be the female that every alpha male wants.

I love you. I loved you. I don’t know anymore.

All that are left are memories that can never be erased the way you erased me out of your heart.