I used to always think about my old friends, but now that I talked to them again and know that it may not work out between them, I don't think about that at all anymore because I no longer miss them.
I've really been thinking about one time in particular.
I was at my cabin, it was July. It was deep in my eating disorder. I was only eating less than 500 calories a day. My body looked like a 10 year olds. But, I remember that I wanted to recover, but something was pulling me back. I now know that was my eating disorder, but I was so torn and lost at the moment, I had no idea.
I decided to bake at the cabin, and when I always bake, I eat. I baked sugar cookie bars and these s'mores bars. I decided to only eat one of each, but that didn't happen.
What happened was, I baked the sugar cookie bars, and ate a ton of mini chocolate cookies along the way, along with some frosting, and 1 sugar cookie bar when they were done. To a normal person, they probably wouldn't feel that full, but to me I felt awful. So I did what I always do when I feel bad about what I ate, I drank tons of water. I was even more full after that, and I still felt awful so I took a nap.
The rest of the day, only kept getting worse. I kept eating more and more and cooking, and I felt so bad about it. I vowed not the eat the next day.
After dinner that day, I was still extremely guilty, so I jumped in the lake by our cabin and started swimming, to burn calories. I was still really full too, so I didn't swim much. But it felt good to exercise, I almost got a high from it in a way.
The next day came around, and all the food was still there. I was so tempted by it. So I drank water and skipped breakfast. But I started getting hungry, so I started eating. I couldn't stop, so I came up with a "plan".
I took a lot of sweets downstairs into the bathroom, and started chewing and spitting. I was eating some too, which I felt bad about so I tried to throw up. It didn't work. So I begged my mom to go swimming, and I started swimming again, even more than before. That was probably the worst weekend of my life.
I'm not sure why I keep remembering that. I always think about it almost every day. Maybe I was close to happy then, but I don't think so. I just remember that being one of the worst times of my eating disorder. I remember another really bad time, but I'll write about that later.
I have been trying to find ways to make me happy, but I'll write about that later too. This post was mainly to vent. Maybe I'll finally start to forget that bad weekend now.
But we always have to remember, we can't be jealous of those thinner than us. Because in reality, we're jealous of their illness, not of them.