My body is currently in battle with my mind. Entrenched in this war my mind started. And to be honest, I don't know how much more my body can take. And then there's me. Being tossed about like a rag doll while those two bicker. I'm trying to find anything to hold on to. But there is absolutely nothing. Because for as much as I hate my mind and the monster that controls it. I also hate my body. I hate that it's weak. I hate that it looks and feels the way it does. But there is a part of me that wants to save it. That wants my body to win. Because as much as I hate it and am repulsed by it I know it can do so much if only I could give it a chance.
My body's latest cry was a kidney stone. Because my grandmother always had a problem with them I am more prone to getting them. And anorexia certainly doesn't help the problem. Metabolic abnormalities and dehydration from exercise just add on to the likelyhood of me continuing to get them. And if you've ever had a kidney stone you know they hurt like hell, it's been compared to childbirth- I don't know since I've never given birth. But let me tell you when I do I want ALL the drugs. I was literally laying on the floor in excrutiating pain cursing myself for causing this.
You'd think that would be enough. Enough motivation to start following my meal plan and fighting harder to recover. Unfortunately it just made the problem worse. I became less motivated and started to punish myself for being so stupid for restricting, by restricting. Eating disorders are so logical.
But that did scare me. Scare me enough to keep from working out, it's been 8 days. And it scared me enough to search for that motivation I so need to recover. I'm searching, I'm getting closer, I think. It's still terrifying and I'm tired of it. But I know its my body's was of telling me what it needs. And I know that it's just as tired as I am. But for some reason it's still fighting. Using its battle cries to tell me it hasn't given up on me yet. But I do know that the next cry could very well be its last.
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