DAY #82 FULL PORTIONS; Brownie Bonfire…

Weetabix x 2.
Wholemeal toast x 2, butter.

*EXTRA pear…

Coronation chicken, jacket potato, butter, 5-bean salad, side salad.
Rhubarb crumble and custard.

Afternoon snack
‘Seabrooks’ crisps.

Breaded haddock fillet, boiled potatoes, sliced carrots.
Cherry full-fat yoghurt.

Chocolate brownie.

…& the usual PINT of semi-skimmed milk.


Not a chirpy chappy tonight – can’t lie. I’ve often been told lately how ‘strong’ I am… it may look like I’m eating my spinach on the outside, but I’m really not. I’m actually a very insecure, lost, lonely, confused, frustrated, awkward lass in recovery from an Eating Disorder. So I’m sorry in advance for the ‘downer day’… but I’ll get back to where I originally started this post:

Pathetic. Reject. Worthless. Unlovable. Unlikable. Childish. Incapable…


HOW is it right to feel this way and STILL have to eat such indulgent foods? This is what continues to baffle me when I feel this low. It feels utterly wrong. I’m not saying Sally over there who might have eaten exactly the same as me today, shouldn’t have done. It’s not that I would judge ANYONE ELSE for enjoying these foods, regardless of how they feel… but I’m only seeing the world through my own eyes, my own brain for evidence… and combining these ‘feelings’ and bonfire thoughts with coronation chicken (first time I tried it today and Eating Disorder aside, *ahem* Yasmin speaking here – it was pretty delish… who doesn’t like uncovering mystery raisins in their bright yellow curry sauce?) crumble, custard… and to end the day in fireworks of undeserving indulgence… a chocolate brownie.

I may as well be Hitler receiving a diamond-encrusted trophy.

Chocolate brownie feels like ‘first prize’ – me, the guilty fraud…

Would you host an afternoon tea party for the burglar that nicked your telly last year? Would you say ‘thank you’ and curtsey to the boy that threw a rubber at your head in class? Would you dip a ‘Jammie Dodger’ in coleslaw? (well, yes – a girl I went to school with does)

This is why to my Eating Disorder it feels like putting Ribena in a car, instead of petrol…

“I should be likable/I should have achieved more today/I should be growing up now at 26, knowing what I’m doing with my life/I should be confident/ I should give other people I love more attention and not be so selfish working on, worrying and deciding WHAT I’m doing with my life/I should be more tidy/ I should be more feminine/I should be more talkative/I should be more interesting/I should be a better sister/I should be a better daughter/I should…

…not have this brownie tonight. When I am all of the above, I will then be entitled.”

It’s been a really insecure kind of day, and I’m recognising more and more how much my low self-esteem, social anxiety and perfectionism… all follow each other on a big, fast Merry-Go-Round… and they then tell my Eating Disorder how to feel and dish out the rules/rewards.

The difference at this point in recovery is, I’m no longer acting on the instructions of behaviour/choices by my Eating Disorder… I’m STILL feeding my body these foods that my taste-buds see as ‘pleasure’. (which is so flippin’ hard and messy when I’m feeling sh*tty)

For now I will choose to continue feeling like Hitler holding his trophy (if it means committing to my divorce from Anorexia), tasting those chocolatey chunks… until eventually I can really detach this whole food from ‘reward’ thing. And hopefully I’ll start to like myself so that I trust I’m a decent enough person for others to like me too.

Brush teeth.



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