Day One

It’s funny. When my life gets real, or harder than usual, or frustrating, or I get stuck in a rut and don’t know what the fuck I want to do with my life, or feel lost and alone and dazed and confused… I want to run here more than anything else. There’s only so much that I can say, a limit to how honest I can be on personal blogs, on Twitter, on Facebook, et al. There’s nobody in my life that I can be completely 100% honest with about my feelings. Even food struggles aside, I’ve been feeling increasingly lost and alone and there’s nobody that I can really vent to, to be honest with, whose shoulder I can cry on unconditionally. This blog, in all its circle of understanding and anonymity, is my safe haven.

And yet, I disappear. For months on end. And even I have no idea why. I have full intentions of blogging daily, whether it be about the ED circle or just about life in general and the struggles I’m having internally on a daily basis. Yet invariably, I don’t. I can tell myself I don’t have the time, or I don’t know what to write, but let’s be honest – those things hardly stop me when I really need or want to write. And I’ve needed and wanted to write for months now but just… haven’t. Apathy maybe? Perhaps I’m basking in my sense of disorientation. I feel I don’t deserve the support that I know I will get here.

I guess this is all to say, I’m back, and it’s far later than it should have been. To kick off the blog again, I’m going to attempt to throw myself into ABC again. With all the other bullshit-and-absolutely-nothing going on in my life, concentrating so heavily on this one little 50 day goal might help me keep my head above water. I need something to provide me with focus, and god knows nothing else in my life is providing it.

So far today has been a good day. I have two thirds of a pot of porridge this morning (which, might I say, was disgusting. I hate the texture of that stuff) to total me approximately 140 calories. Day one is 500, so I have an even 360 to last me the rest of the day. Honestly though I don’t even want to eat anything. I’m not hungry, physically or craving in my mind.

All I want to do is go home, climb into bed with my purring kitten, and be dead to the world for twelve hours, until I’m forced to get up and do it all over again. The blanket of despair and self-hatred that covers me at this time is thicker than it has been in a long, long while. It’s all the better for hibernating against the cold snap that’s hit England lately. And hibernating I have been. And in all likelihood, will continue to do. Until I can snap myself out of this deep depression enough to give a shit about anything in my life again, anyway.

We shall see.

Love you all.

V