Chaos.

My mind is chaotic, a whirlwind of thoughts that are tripping over one another and falling, causing me to feel that inner thud whilst they land with a bump, but before you know it, they are up and chasing around the mind once again. I can’t make sense of things and when I finally think that I’m starting to understand, something new is thrown into the mix.

My eating disorder is starting to tighten its grip once again, I hear it’s powerful whispers and I feel it’s hands suffocate me. I’m not entirely sure what has triggered it to come at me full force, but it’s here, all day and all night. My muscles tighten and get themselves in knots as I walk, footsteps pounding the pavements, in an attempt to rid myself of the few calories consumed. My eyes sting with heaviness as sleep becomes non-existent. The mind is forever tormenting, and I sit there before the mirror thinking, ‘Who are you? And why are you so difficult and complicated?’

You’ll currently find me, tucked away in my room, surrounded by books and cushions with a mug of tea, feeling ridiculously guilty after eating one, yes just one, mini chocolate from the tub of celebrations. The rain hits the window hard and all I keep thinking is that I should be out there pounding the pavements. Guilt is nauseating, it’s a layer of thick black tarmac coating your soul and being. But the Eating disorder is always there, in the brilliant words of Emma woolf - ‘it’s a friend and a crutch, an addiction and a compulsion.’

And I needed something whilst I had nothing. I ask myself, when will I let go and the answer is always: When I have no reason to hold on.