I've Fallen Out Of Love

I've fallen out of love with anorexia officially & forever. This is how I have come to this realisation and what the preceding actions have been.

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Anorexia has almost killed me on multiple occasions. I've been given weeks left to live. It's hard to love something when it doesn't even care for your life, but not impossible, and that's what's scariest about anorexia. It is ruthless. And because of this, it must always be taken seriously. I didn't fall out of love with anorexia the first time it tried to kill me. And I didn't fall out of love with it the second time, or the third time, or the many times thereafter. It took years of it killing me before I came to fall out of love with it. But I reached a point where that didn't frighten me; instead, it petrified me. Because I made the clear decision and realisation that I had so much to live for... so much. I had a beautiful family, beautiful friends, hundreds of subscribers who want to listen to what I have to share, followers who support me, and people I don't even know personally who are constantly rooting for me and asking how I am. Once I realised this, I could see how anorexia never, not once, has had my best interest at heart, and worse than best interest, no interest, just hate, bullying and ultimately, death.

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My parents sob in agony and desperation when I'm in the depths of anorexia, afraid for my life and certainly my quality of it. But not just my quality is affected, it's theirs as well - living in hyper awareness, rigidity, sadness and immense daily fear.

When I control food, anorexia controls them.

Because anorexia is within me, the anger my loved ones have towards anorexia is expressed towards me, and the conflict this creates is immense. There becomes a huge rift between the ease of my relationships, and sadly, many of them have been tainted. Falling out of love with anorexia has already mended so many of my broken relationships in just a few short weeks. I can't go back to how it was. I can't go back to the fighting, the yelling, or the crying. I can't go back to feeling my mum sob into my open arms, weak from the monster in my mind yelling at her, and yelling at me. She deserves more than that. And now that I've fallen out of love with the monster in my mind, I allow myself to think that maybe I do, too.

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Anorexia convinces you that you feel happier with its place in your life. It convinces you that the numbness you experience is more peaceful than dealing with unresolved chaos. It convinces you that with every act of restriction, you gain happiness from its control. And I believed it, mostly, up until after I fell out of love with it, and could see that the happiness I began to experience was out of this world in comparison to anorexia's. In fact, in hindsight, I could see that anorexia's deceit inhibited torment towards me, dangling its stick just above me - a starving dog. To allow me to believe it brought happiness was to believe a wicked, intentional lie. It fooled me for a decade, but it may fool me no more. That type of happiness mustn't be fooled for anything short of what it truly is, and that is sadness - true, unwavering, absolute sadness.

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So yes, I’ve fallen out of love, Dolls, because I hadn’t seen all the colours of the rainbow, and now I can see every single one. And it’s not a rainbow, it’s recovery.

Kisses,

COS x