Why Do I Miss It

Looking back for me has become really hard. I miss being in the midst of my disorder. I miss not being hungry and having that morning skinny last all day. I miss the old habits and tricks because I was skinnier then. Skinnier then I am now.

I don’t feel skinny in the body I am now, and although I never have, I know I used to be smaller and that is a hard fact to face.

I keep basing my worth on how I look, as if I can only be loved if I look pretty. As if my heart is not good enough to be loved on its own. That even I cannot love my heart on its own.

I should be proud of myself for starting to take care and nourish my body, but I find myself a little disappointed. — and I KNOW that is my disorder talking, but its talking really loud. Like I have let it down, like I’ve let my younger self down.

I think I am almost accepting less for myself and my life because I don’t feel worthy of something better. Like I can’t do better.

— and I don’t know why I miss some of those things, it was and it is awful. I hated my hair failing out and the uncomfortable conversations and the trips to the doctors. But all of those things also validated my illness to the point where I thought it was working, that I was doing it right. — like the pain of it all was worth being skinny for. And now I’m stuck.

I am trying to give myself healthy reminders, and I have ended up here, becoming vulnerable in front of who ever is taking the time to read these and watch my life unfold.