What a difference a year makes

It has been almost a year since I last posted and I can't even begin to describe what has gone on in the last eleven months. In a nutshell, it has contained 2 ED IP hospital stays (a 2 week one in Leeds and a 4 month stay in Sheffield), two sections, 3 (or was it 4?) acute mental health ward admissions, a suicide attempt, Refeeding syndrome, an NG tube, a brief stint of recovery and a relapse.

Which brings me to where I am now. Relapsed. I've fallen and I'm sorry to say this but I don't think I actually care that much. I feel so low and I'm losing grip on everything, including my relationship. Everything came to a head this week when it came out that I wasn't doing as well as I was saying at all.

And that's where I am now. Heartbroken and seemingly determined on blowing every fucking relationship I'm lucky enough to have in my life, in to smithereens.

Mt sister is understandably fuming, worried, upset, betrayed...as are my parents and my (now ex) girlfriend.

I, living in a new place-a place I'd promised would be a 'fresh start'; the answer to all of my problems. Clean slate and all that

Is it fuck.
Everything seems to be hurting more now than it has done in ages. But I can't bring myself to care about tha more than I care about my expanded fucking waistline and, quite honestly, disgusting and repulsive appearance. The more people scream at me the more my ed has to cling on to.

In the past, people have compared my addiction to laxatives to that of a heroin addict to their fix. I've laughed and shrugged it off, told them they're off their rocker if they think it even compares...lo and behold- they may have been on to something. The laxatives, to me, are what 'one ,ore drink' is to an alcoholic. A addiction I can't shake. A pit I can go hurtling down in to after staying semi 'clean' for so long.

And I want to bring myself to are. To give a (pardon the pun) shit about what happens/is happening to me. But I don't. I'm once again consumed by this illness and have been dragged in to its empty promises all the while shattering the hopes of those around me that this would be it. This would be the time I really turned things around


I am so sorry
I really don't know what to do and can't focus on anything else apart from shifting this'd eight that seems to be drowning me. Smothering me in fat. I've NEVER felt this bad about my body. Never. Not when at my lowest weight even. Not wen I have been so hellbent on destruction in the past.

I can't see a way out. This is the only route I know and the only thing that feels 'normal' to me. I'm driving myself insane so I can't even imagine what it's doing to those around me. Again.
All I can say is that I have and I am fucked up
Royally fucked up