I’m bored of anorexia.
I’m bored of waking up each morning and subconsciously running my fingers over my hip bones.
I’m bored of planning every meal of the day and calculating every calorie.
I’m bored of choosing foods based purely on their calorie content and I’m bored of eating these boring foods.
I’m bored of spending the vast majority of my day thinking about how much I hate my body.
I’m bored of obsessing over every single morsel that passes my lips.
I’m bored of the panic that courses my veins at the prospect of eating.
I’m bored of the hunger, the sickness, the discomfort and the pain.
I’m bored of crying. I’m bored of constantly trying to find reasons to be happy, reasons to stay alive.
I’m bored of watching my family’s anguish and feeling helpless to change.
I’m bored of the self-hate and self-revulsion and self-depreciation that rule my days.
I’m bored of this illness, and I’m bored of this life. Anorexia may tell me that I can’t change anything, but actually I can. I can absolutely be my own hero. I can save myself and I can heal myself and I can change my life.
I don’t have to be hungry anymore. I can eat, whatever and whenever. I don’t have to count calories. I can choose a cheeseburger over a salad. I can gain some flesh on my bones so I don’t have to hurt anymore. I can ignore the voices that tell me I’m useless and unworthy and undeserving. I can fight back and I can do the opposite of what they say. I can fight through my tears and I can overcome the anxiety and I can be happy.
I can fill my life with wonderful things. I can learn foreign languages and fill my mind with Spanish grammar and Italian vocabulary. I can teach myself calligraphy and create beautiful works of typography. I can help young children read; I can teach English to refugees; I can crochet comforting toy animals for dangerously premature babies. I can show empathy and compassion and support people through times of hardship. I can travel the world. I can eat pizza in Naples and baklava in Greece and sushi in Japan. I can drink sangria in Barcelona and ski in Canada and surf in Australia.
I can build a life for myself away from anorexia and away from the voices and the rules and the agony that the illness brings. I can live and laugh and love.
I can I can I can.
And I will.