Recovery Journal 6/6
When you’re curled up in the fetal position in the shower, hot water washing away your shame, staring at your shower curtain and wondering, “is that acne wash or vomit?”, you realize that those pro Ana/mia tumblr posts were lies.
This isn’t beautiful, or artistic, or some sort of poetic suffering. It’s disgusting, it’s horrible, it’s painful. And when you’re sitting in your shower all alone, having just puked your guts out, wondering if you’ve done a good enough job at cleaning the mess, you’ll realize how ugly this disorder is.
Bulimia isn’t beautiful or poetic,
Recovery is.
So as I’m sitting in the shower, wondering what to tell my therapist, my resolve to recover gets stronger.














