(let me just sit with that for a minute)...
I honestly have not gone two full days without purging (even liquids like sugary coffee!) since last September.
I am so happy about it that I could just cry.
(2 minutes later)
I feel silly. Sitting here teary-eyed because I didn't puke for two days but oh, there are not words enough to express just how proud I am of that right now. It feels like a pathetic thing to be proud of but I am. Powerfully proud of myself.
The last few months have been just...horrid. Purging daily. Often multiple times.
Purging is such a visceral reflection of just how deeply I despise myself. Yet there is this 'rush' that I sometimes get afterward. I can't really explain it.
But these tears feel like a balm. I suppose I need them.
Look, don't get me wrong. Like most of us here I am riddled with the dichotomy of intensely hating myself (for eating) and strong love for myself (for not eating). Healthy? No. But I am at least trying to face the odd truth of that love/hate passion for me.
Now, I also make full admission that not purging presently means pretty much not eating. Again, is this a healthy trade off? No. But I'm fine with that too for now. The purging is robbing my spirit much more than the restricting.
And I am not going to sit here and think that I've beat this thing and I'll never purge again. Ha! I will. But today I feel a little stronger than yesterday.
Today I woke up to the pride of knowing I have put a hold on my beast for the last two days.
I will take that victory thankyouverymuch and raise my head high.
I did not purge yesterday.
You guys are the most amazing human beings. I am profoundly grateful for your support, encouragement, and each of your lovely blogs.