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brainstorm

29K views 175 replies 14 participants last post by  cloudydaygrace 
#1 ·
if people in my life find this account

Dear family member, I don't like to keep secrets from any of you. We are a southern family; we share everything and care about one another more than life itself. My mental health is the one thing I try to keep from anyone because I don't want to be a burden.

Dear friend, I understand if it's hard to believe I suffer from disordered eating. I definitely don't look the part. Please don't judge me or stop being my friend.

Dear habibi, I am so sorry. I know you think I'm doing better. I know you think I've been okay recently, but I'm struggling. I know you think I don't keep any secrets, but hey-- at least my secret is an account in an eating disorder community and not cheating or murder. I have no excuse. I know it's wrong to keep things like this from you, because I know you'd be there for me in a heartbeat. I just know you're going through a lot right now. Colleges, family things, driving, jobs... life is just starting for us and I don't want to put more on you. I've debated whether or not I should show you this account myself, and I'm still unsure. That's why I decided to make this little disclaimer/notice/apology thing. You mean everything to me. I wouldn't put anything on here that I'd be embarrassed or nervous for you to see; it isn't like a deep, dark secret. I honestly just didn't want to burden you. This also is a place of support and understanding, so don't be worried by the website name. I'm sorry, Joey. Keeping things from you feels horrible. I just needed to be a part of a community that understands how I'm feeling. I know you understand, but I feel as though you may get a little overwhelmed by all the food talk. I'm sorry for doing this, and I'm sorry the apology is so jumbled. I love you. I'm so thankful I have you.
 
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#2 ·
emetophobia + ed (TW)

I've had an immense phobia of vomit for as long as I can recall. I've had issues with food for around five years.

These two things have never intertwined until the last couple of months.

For me, emetophobia has always been worse when other people vomit. The sound, the look, everything just sends me into immediate panic. I still get horrified when I vomit, but the fear isn't as awful. So recently, my brain produced this great idea. (Note the sarcasm.)

I've been trying to desensitize myself. I try to watch videos of people vomiting, but then I shake and sweat. I try pictures, but then I feel tears coming on. I'm lucky I can read graphic descriptions and hear people talk about vomit, because otherwise I'd never be able to visit the bulimia forums here.

Since I can't see other people vomiting without jumping out of my own skin, I decided I'd just try to get used to myself vomiting.

So now every time I get in the shower, I try to make it happen. Every time. I gag, of course, but then the fear sets in. After I settle down, I do it again. This goes on for half an hour sometimes. Before I know it, I've run out of warm water and I didn't even wash my hair. I try so hard, and I know I shouldn't want to throw up, but I really do.

I had a virus about a week ago and I was on the edge of praying that I'd throw up. It never happened.

I suppose I'll stick to laxatives and restriction. Fun.
 
#3 ·
complaining about being L A R G E

I was born fat. I grew up fat, and I grew up tortured by and because of that. I've never been a healthy BMI. Always overweight or obese. Sure, I could lose weight healthily. Do I have the patience and motivation for that? I don't even have the patience and motivation to live some days.

Since 7th grade I've been stuck in this cycle. Fast/restrict, binge, compensate (fasting, laxatives, exercise), binge, repeat. Before this cycle, it was binge after binge. Since birth I've been one pathetic fat girl. So all my life I've fluctuated. I am not at my highest, and I am not at my lowest.

But recently time has been so misty and squished together that I'm not sure how close I am to yesterday. Was my lowest weight last year or four years ago?

Since I've always been the fat friend and the fat sister and the fat cousin and especially the fat daughter, people don't take me seriously. Do I look ridiculous crying in the shower because I swallowed my gum at 190 pounds? Is this mindset not destructive and painful and fatal, simply because I am not less than, say, 100 pounds?

When I see my therapist every couple of weeks, I leave feeling worse than when I came in. When I opened up to her about my laxative abuse, she said, "well I know you don't have anorexia, and thank goodness you can't have bulimia because you're scared of vomit. Do you think you have an eating disorder?" When I told her I binged and then didn't eat for three days (five years ago) and that's what started everything, she said it was just a teenage thing. Does everyone think this is a normal phase? Sure, some disordered behavior is normalized by the world today. However, had I been 50lbs thinner when I told my therapist this, there wouldn't be a second thought before I'd be diagnosed then and there with some sort of disorder. I assume she thinks I am just engaging in some behaviors and am not fully disordered. She likes to say, "believe it or not, I was bigger at one point. I understand what you're going through." But with that logic, she must think every overweight person takes 6 dulcolax a day and cries to their dog about macronutrients??? How can you understand what I'm going through but also tell me that when I was my highest weight, my "belly had gotten so big" that you were worried I'd develop some terrible health complications?

I'm not trying to pull the skinny privilege card on anyone, don't worry. I know thin people can have it easier, the same, and much MUCH harder than me. I'm simply concerned with how society views fat people's mental state. I try not to be lazy; I try not to eat everything in sight. I try not to mindlessly snack while distracted by TV or a book. But those things seem to be what everyone thinks I do.

Not every fat person has the same mindset and attitude as Fat Amy or Peter Griffin. I need to be taken seriously. I need help.
 
#4 ·
why can't i relapse

A few years ago, I was nearing a healthy weight (after a lifetime of fluctuating around the higher BMIs). I was doing so well with fasting and restriction.

Cycles, as we know, happen. I went into the "eating more but still obsessing over food and weight" phase for a few months.

Then, the "eating more and suppressing my feelings" phase.

Then, the "oh god, what am I doing... FAST FAST FAST" phase.

That was me about a year ago. I lost 35 pounds, I was so excited to keep losing... But I hit a plateau right around the week of my birthday. You know, the week of cake and sometimes nice dinners.

My favorite restaurant has always been the Cheesecake Factory. I go every year for my birthday. I've always loved their sweet bread, and oh god the tomato basil pasta. But those calories. Nearing 3,000 if you eat a whole piece of cheesecake with the two previous items I mentioned. So now, I have two reasons to be terrified of the Cheesecake Factory. The other reason is a story for another time.

So about a year ago for my birthday, I went to this wonderful restaurant. And boy did I eat a lot. And that whole week, boy did I eat a lot.

I started gaining weight back, very slowly but VERY surely.

So for an entire year, since that damn birthday week, I have hidden behind flannels and taken laxative after laxative. I have gagged myself in the shower with no success. I have fasted for days only to binge the day after. I have played Just Dance 1, 2, 3, and 4 for three hours straight and given up after months because I'm tired of hearing the same songs every single day. I have continued to gain weight, to the point where I don't even remember the last time I lost weight.

I have been stuck in this almost-losing-weight hell for way too long.

I am 15 pounds away from my highest weight and I am TERRIFIED that I will be back in the same place because my birthday is coming up soon.

So I won't have it anymore. This year, I will either start an accountability blog for myself, or I will get some sort of plan in my head instead of winging things. I won't say, "I can't binge today," I will say, "I don't binge anymore."

If I get stuck in another binge phase, may nature strike me to the ground.
 
#5 ·
body behind bars

My eyes are locked away
Dripping saltwater tears to rust the metal stakes
My nose ponders the crimes committed by my mouth
How long will I serve again, officer?

Until there is less body behind bars
I will remain punished
Shivering, sweating,
Why am I so heavy?

My mistake, I suppose
After you left your home and kept me trapped in a gun cabinet
Obesity made my mind frail, but cookies became my father
Why couldn't I just play dress up like a normal kid?

Rubies lie beneath the wrists
Gold delicately wraps around each rib
Collarbones are studded with precious stones
But I have the wrong treasure map

I have served five years behind these bars
But my body has served seventeen
Will I ever escape this search for my skeleton?
Will I ever see my body again?
 
#6 ·
volcanic

Lava engulfs the empty plate
Streams of neon rage and hate
Trickling orange to the tiled ground
Flowing to the cabinet without a sound

Memory fades and legs go numb
Not a drop is forgotten, not one tiny crumb
The magma burns the breaking bones
Intestines float in fire and scones

Knuckles prove that Russell was right
Fingernails of yellow fight the bite
Disinfect when the eruption has ceased
Then off to buy groceries to begin a new feast

Satiation of a hollow rock
Futile in the pupil of the fridge's silver lock
Could never be reached by you or by me
Our enemy and our ruler is the calorie

This night is volcanic
This body, pathetic
A lesson, in tears, has been given and heard
That feathers could never compare to birds
 
#7 ·
THAT bday at the cheesecake factory

This Friday was my birthday. Since I always go to the Cheesecake Factory for my birthday, I thought this week would be a good time to tell you a little story...

I believe the year was 2016. I was with one of my (then and current) dearest friends. Her name is not Harriet, but we'll call her Harriet for privacy reasons.

Harriet, my sister, my mom, and I all took off to the lovely C-Factory to have a delicious birthday dinner. I ordered my usual tomato basil pasta. And up until we got our cheesecake (after everyone was finished with their entrees), everything was perfectly fine.

Reese's peanut butter chocolate cheesecake. That's what Harriet got. While we waited for our slices of happiness, she texted me and said, "head hurt."

I was concerned, but not yet alarmed. She put her head down a couple times and was acting a bit strange, and yet, I was still blissfully unaware of the situation.

Here is a piece of information about yours truly: I am deathly afraid of vomit. I have severe emetophobia, and simply hearing someone say, "I feel sick," can send me into a crying, hyperventilating frenzy.

But there was no warning here. There was no, "I feel sick." Luckily, Harriet knew about my emetophobia and turned the other way.

I had no idea she had been vomiting until she was halfway done. I looked beside me, and she was bent over coughing.

My mom and my sister were across from us in the booth. Harriet was on the open side of the booth, so I was stuck.

As soon as she stopped, my mom took her to the bathroom. An employee came over and started sprinkling cleaner on the ground and on the booth.

I was sitting in shock, and so was my sister. I was crying so much and trying so hard not to freak out.

I couldn't leave the booth by stepping over the vomit, because there was a chance I'd step in it. I couldn't go over the table, because I didn't want to get in trouble.

I had to crawl under the table, next to the vomit. So, I did.

I went as fast as I could and got the hell out of that Cheesecake Factory. I sat on a bench outside, crying.

My sister and I sat silently for a moment. But all moments end.

Harriet came out of the Cheesecake Factory with my mom, looking like she felt fine. She began walking towards the bench I was sitting on, and I got up and fucking clocked it. I ran between the restaurant and the mall it's connected to. (You aren't supposed to go there, but I did not know, nor did I care. I just wanted away from her.)

Eventually, my sister persuaded me to come inside the mall with her. Harriet was said to be feeling better. Like every emo ass birthday girl does, I headed straight for Hot Topic. I stayed way behind Harriet because if I were in front of her, I'd be in the danger zone.

I went into Hot Topic and realized I may have been hurting Harriet's feelings. So I tried to casually talk to her while still staying as far away from her as I could. We went to one of the big walls of shirts, and she said she was feeling icky again. So she left, and to avoid crying, I stood right where I was.

An employee in Hot Topic wearing a unicorn onesie began asking me which of the shirts I like. I pointed out the ones I had, desperately trying to forget that my friend may be vomiting outside of the store.

I had to leave after awhile of holding back tears and thinking of the terror that happened at the previous location.

Sitting outside were Harriet and my sister. Standing beside them was my mom.

I didn't walk any closer. I waited for clues of how everyone was feeling. Everyone seemed okay, just tired.

Everyone got up and my mom said that we should take Harriet home.

I hadn't yet thought of this. But now I did, and it crushed me. I had to ride in the car with someone who was feeling ill.

This circumstance has happened to me once before, which I suppose I'll tell another time.

I started crying again, and I made it clear that I would only get in the car if she sat in the front. I really wasn't trying to be a brat, I was just terrified.

So I rode in the car for about an hour with her. I had a blanket over my head and earphones in.

When we dropped her off, I felt limp. Finally, it was over.

Now, 2019, my birthday was good. I went with a different friend, and there was no vomit.
 
#8 ·
dry

tears keep hitting my chest
i hear the twinkle of a grand piano with each salty droplet's depart from my eye
but i look down
and there is no moisture
all those tears are phantoms

the melody of a thousand thirsting ghosts
haunts my quaking tendons
smells of death and tulips and clorox
tastes of deep and feels of color

what does it mean to be false
does it make me nonexistent
does it make me clear
am i a phantom too

my tears whistle around my clogged brain
in their own graves
but you can't die if you were never alive
 
#9 ·
i hit my highest weight again.

and i exceeded it.

i have never seen this high of a number before. i had been avoiding the scale for weeks because i can't stop my binge streak. and when i finally let myself step on, my toes pointed in disbelief and fear at this number i never thought i'd see. ten muffins today. and a pizza. i can't even type out how i feel. i couldn't cry, i was just so shocked. i'm sure it'll hit me at night, but for now i am just absolutely shocked. i'm excited to cry, though, because i haven't been able to get any tears out in awhile. i'm so empty yet SO FULL. i don't have anything left to say now.

:(
 
#10 ·
~~ MiSeRy HeHe :p ~~

This is ridiculous. I binged this "morning" (in quotes because I always wake up super late) on fucking PoTaTo WeDgEs. I took laxatives earlier, and I just sat in the shower for twenty minutes trying to puke. I haven't been to therapy in over a month. My mom is trying to help me get a job, and I chose to apply to an ice cream shop nearby because maybe, just maybe, all that ice cream will help me learn how to purge correctly. My throat is burning right now and my knees hurt. Could be much worse, but I really like to complain.
 
#11 ·
don't want my weight to be my shtick anymore

i work self-deprecating jokes into many conversations with my friends. i have for years. it's basically what i'm known for.

i've even had a teacher comment on it. i was so embarrassed that someone finally told me that it was annoying, because i knew it was annoying but i didn't know how to stop. i annoy myself with it, but it's one way that i cope with my self-hatred.

now i'm older, though. i've had an eating disorder for years. i am so fucking tired of my body being my joke. it makes me feel like i can't ask for help.

and good god, i need help.
 
#12 ·
IOP consultation in the morning

We can't afford it, but my mom is insisting that we go. She and I both know we can't afford it. And that I'm not skinny enough to really need it.

I don't know what they're going to ask or do or say or want. I'm scared they're just going to say I'm fine, and then I'll go back home with my huge stomach and my shriveling heart. I'm scared they're going to tell me they think it's BED. I just want some sort of hope that I can lose weight, because I'm gaining and gaining and gaining and gaining and gaining and I'm bigger than I have ever fucking been and I don't want to fucking BE any more

I am pathetic and every time I have one day where I haven't overeaten, someone offers me some junk ass fatty ass food that they know I want and can't turn down

I am so fucking ashamed. None of my clothes fit me. I have no reason to be here, I am a waste of space, money, and FOOD. Goddamn am I a waste of food.
 
#13 ·
my throat hurts

My mom and I went to the store today. I got a bunch of food. I did better than usual today calorie-wise. But still, showering was hell. The nails on my right index and middle finger are shorter than all my other nails. I drank a ton of water. I listened to music. And yet, nothing comes up because as soon as I gag, I get scared and remove my fingers from my mouth. Then I pump myself up for another minute and do it again. And again and again and again. It's gross and it's uncomfortable and it's scary, but I can't stop.
 
#14 ·
im having trouble sleeping again

theres this terrible smell of old rotten junk food and its so humid in here.
i think im becoming senile at seventeen.
i am so intensely bored, i made a sim of jeffree star and listened to biggie smalls - "warning" on repeat.
i genuinely cant tell if im tired tbh. my brain is either completely melted or completely frozen at this point.
also, posted a blog earlier and mentioned doing well calorie-wise today...
yeah, i fucked that up after everyone else in the house went to bed. i made eggless cookie dough. lmao i wasn't even hungry,,,,,
survival is a tedious challenge
 
#15 ·
family on diet

my sister claims to be on the keto diet. she is measuring everything, she is logging calories. it's scaring me. and it's fucked up because it's scaring me for more than one reason... not only do i not want her to go through the pain of disordered eating or be obsessed with food/her body, but my eating disorder is telling me it's competition. and my rational brain is thinking 'what the fuck?'

doing better today calorie-wise (knock on wood).
 
#16 ·
i couldnt do the blood test today

i had to get out of there. they were gonna send me to the hospital to have it done, but i couldnt go. i was on the verge of tears the entire time i waited, and gosh, they took so long to come in and out of there. and for blood pressure supine and standing, my hands were completely numb for minutes. just the thought of something sharp in my vein made me shiver. i felt like i might vomit. and sickly enough, i hoped i would so id be more used to vomiting. i just sat there, with my teddy bear, watching the office bloopers... ready to cry. i knew the entire time i wasnt prepared, but how? last night, i watched sad videos and listened to beautiful music and purposely cried for hours, then i watched videos of venipuncture to accept what was going to happen to me. i felt okay about it last night, but i woke up shivering. we didnt end up going to the doctor for no reason, as they changed my meds a bit (again). but when i told my mom i was too anxious today, she seemed very frustrated. i understand that she just wanted me to get it over with so i could get into the iop program, but i felt like such a burden. i wish i could get over this... i wouldnt call it a fear of needles or blood or shots or any of that. its different. i am not scared of being punctured. i am not scared of blood. i am okay with shots. but a needle going into a very sensitive part of my arm and puncturing my VEIN... no. im getting shivers again.
 
#17 ·
cant enjoy anything

i went to a david bowie tribute concert last night. the music was great, the energy was great, but i had no fun. i felt like everything was moving super slowly, and all i was thinking about was how huge my legs looked. i am so sad, i feel like hurting myself but i have no reason to and i know i shouldnt. my body is just huge. i dont want to look like this anymore. i dont want to see that tv screen instead of a mirror, i dont want to see my fat 7 year old body anymore; it's been years, damn it. i have no control and im scared i never will.
 
#18 ·
im tired of titles

next to me sits a pile of wrappers and dishes
my music is giving the entire house a migraine
no one will see the blood if the towel was already red
and my throat hurts from the abuse by my fingertips.

but today is just like every other fucking day. i woke up at two p.m. and did nothing until i got so hungry i couldnt stand it. i ate something small and felt guilty. i went into the shower and tried to dig out the food. i gagged and choked and coughed and cried and then got out and came to complain to no one in this "blog."
 
#19 ·
im tired of titles

next to me sits a pile of wrappers and dishes
my music is giving the entire house a migraine
no one will see the blood if the towel was already red
and my throat hurts from the abuse by my fingertips.



but today is just like every other fucking day. i woke up at two p.m. and did nothing until i got so hungry i couldnt stand it. i ate something small and felt guilty. i went into the shower and tried to dig out the food. i gagged and choked and coughed and cried and then got out and came to complain to no one in this "blog."
i find what you wrote at the beginning quite beautiful, of course sad too.

I know the feeling, the entire post that is.

The days start to feel even more miserable when they all seem to be the same.

I hope tomorrow will be kinder to you
 
#21 ·
who has two thumbs and hates herself? this girl

in around 42 days, i will be a senior in high school. i wanted to lose weight and get my hair done and get new clothes and look completely different this year...

but you cant always get what you want. i gained 60 pounds. i dyed my hair and it looks terrible. i dont fit any of my clothes, even the new ones. and i only have 42ish days to correct those things. i keep telling myself that, and then i get sad and eat. what the fuck? why is that my solution to everything? can i go ONE DAY without eating? i get halfway through the day then i eat myself sick, how do i manage?

people are going to vomit at the sight of me if i dont work harder. harder and i mean it. im serious. but will i be so serious tomorrow, at 6:42 pm when i binge on something i didnt even want in the first place? what will it be this time, ritz crackers? soup? oatmeal? why cant i stick to a certain number?

how was it so fucking easy for me four years ago? i could go days on end without eating, and i never ever ever ever ever evrververververvrvrvEVER FUCKING BINGED. what was i doing differently? ive got the same amount-- if not more-- of desire to be smaller. so why in the everloving shit can i not go through with it?

who has two thumbs and cant get two other fingers to go down her throat and pull out the carcass of her mashed potatoes? this girl. who has two thumbs and has no idea why shes alive? this girl. who has two thumbs and is giving the fuck up? this girl. this girl. this girl. i give up.
 
#22 ·
canned

i woke up at 5pm again. i sat there for awhile. now its almost 7, and i plan on watching heartcatch precure for hours and only eating canned peaches. today is going good so far.

my parents will be out of state for a few days starting tomorrow, so i have no pressure to eat, as long as my sister doesnt take me anywhere.

i need to start dancing again.
 
#23 ·
it is official

i weigh more than my boyfriend.

i have always had a higher bmi than him (he's nine inches taller than i am)

but now...

i weigh more than my boyfriend.

i hurt myself. i'm drinking senna tea. i'm going crazy right now. listening to triggering music and coming in and out of my mind.

he's sleeping. he doesn't know i'm upset. wow it's getting worse by the second???? what the fuck do i do?

i cant unfurrow my brow. its my sisters bday today and we are going to a restaurant, what am i going to do?

why cant i lose weight

i feel like im not in this body>>>>????

i keep typing "i feel" to start a sentence but i cant feel a fucking thing right now where am i
 
#24 ·
,,

i am still so embarrassed. ive always been the largest person in the family and in the school,, but ive never weighed more than my boyfriend.

now that my sisters bday is over i have to stop eating,. and i am serious.

i know i cant and i know i wont. but god iim tired of feeling this. id rather feel nothing..,
 
#26 ·
i hate when people bring me food

i know thats really ungrateful, but i just want to be left alone to starve. let me sleep until 5pm and dont bring me a milkshake. youre ruining my day of fasting. and tomorrow i have to go to my bffs house because we're watching stranger things 3 together AFTER going to a baby cousin's flippin bday party, so i wanted to not eat today to save up for whatever happens tomorrow. now i have to be careful about tomorrow. perhaps when i get home ill take laxatives? im going to exercise now. fuck milkshakes
 
#27 ·
I don't think it's ungrateful, but more unwanted. You just gotta be really firm when saying no. I dislike it when my dad brings me food too and often feel like it's my obligation to eat it since he waited so long to get it. Yet, it's my responsibility to say no, and be true to myself.
 
#29 ·
one day i'll explain

on april 24, 2019, i had an assignment in my english class.

Directions: Write a few paragraphs that tell the story about an important childhood event. In your story, you should use imagery, simile, and metaphor at least twice. Underline said figurative language.
(//not sure why we have to relearn figurative language every year but anyway)

it may seem unfinished and confusing, but it is raw: here is what i wrote.

The madman rubbed his hands together like gears and cogs behind the clock of his insanity. Cackles, not chuckles, left his prickly mouth with no hush whatsoever. It lasted years, I assumed. At least, I felt older, because I had to grow up a bit to understand the evil holding the camera. His sidekick even seemed stunned by the horror he displayed; the fear in my teary eyes made the cats scurry away.
Why did he do it, and why was he laughing? The screen was not a funny sight. Sobs and shouts and the everlasting laughter filled the room, and when I crossed my arms and ran as far as I could, all that chased me was his rancid smile. There never was an apology, nor an ending. The television is all I see in the mirror these days, a phantom of that day. Lava still pours from my tomb like the evil from his mouth.
An entire decade later, my father's calloused palms have sent me to Focus. I have no idea if it's wrong to blame him, but who else is there to blame? Every night is a waterfall, and every morning I'm not sure whose face I see in my cracked mirror: the goatee of a mummy or the puffy lymph nodes of the aforementioned waterfall.
 
#30 ·
faking everything

what he did is all i can think about. i have people i can talk to about it, but i feel like i cant bring it up. i want to forget so bad.

i feel so pathetic knowing it isn't that bad. its not like anything illegal happened.

what a mediocre thing to hurt myself over, especially ten years after it happened.

i think the reason i'm thinking about it so much is because i've seen season three of stranger things twice (it came out eight days ago, don't worry i won't spoil anything), and there's a bit of child abuse. i feel so connected to billy's character. he may be a jerk in season two, and i don't think abuse can necessarily excuse terrible behavior, but i really see pain in all of his anger. i hate seeing people suffer because of a parent.

so even though my situation is much different, i relate in certain ways. im lucky to not be in contact with him any longer. but my mind is still in contact. dreams, intrusive thoughts, the feeling...

is it normal to feel a warm feeling in your chest when remembering trauma? not a good warm feeling, like a lingering discomfort? it's definitely in my chest, but it almost feels like it's all emotional. it isn't painful, it's just foreign. and it reminds me of things he did. it is such a specific feeling that i dont associate with anything else.

anyway, fuck life haha
 
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