It bothers me. It bothers me that it takes several attempts at opening the fridge door before I can build up the courage to take nutrition. That yellow light illuminating my face and my eating disorder. It bothers me that things have become so unmanageable. Body image is terrifying and it bothers me that I can’t walk into the bathroom without tip-toeing or feeling over sensitive. I'm terrified of the bathroom, I don’t dare to see myself in the bathroom mirrors.
It bothers me that it’s ironic that the bathroom and the kitchen are the two most beautiful rooms in the flat yet they are the two I fear the most.
The thought of seeing a body that I do not feel at home in terrifies me. The thought of seeing a body that will cause so much internal torment terrifies me.
So what do I do? I sit quietly before my psychologist and try and untangle the confused web of anorexia and body image. Questions bounce to and from. I sit quietly before my psychologist, picking at the hospital chairs whilst trying to hold myself together and figure this all out. She sets me homework of studying my body in the mirror, I squirm uncomfortably at my reflection whilst trying to remember to trust the process. To trust that I will get to a point where I can try and figure out this foreign body and why it makes me feel so uncomfortable. My psychologist and I sit together and try to find the truth behind the lies of my tormented thoughts. She tells me our bodies are not to be ashamed of, and I will forever try and hold on to that statement.
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