I used to equate being thin to happy, and now that I'm sort of thin and still not happy I'm more aware of my distorted thinking, in way. When I feel like I'm losing control of things, I start focusing on how I can control my appearance, but thankfully I've learned that an eating disorder isn't healthy and will not produce the results I might want. Plus my teeth and esophagus are screwed up so I can't afford to do that shit to myself again, frankly. I think I'm learning to be okay with my appearance. I kinda get makeup, although I can't afford the stuff I'd like, and I remind myself that hard work got me to where I am now and that I should be proud that I can fit into a size 4 at 5'6", not disgusted. I need to keep my emotions in check and talk to someone before catastrophizing and ending up with an anxiety attack.
Sometimes I can't help but feel a little envious of my sister; she got the clinical help and support she needed (and currently needs). Maybe I really was functioning and clinical support wasn't needed, but I don't think that was the case for the entire time I was struggling. And even after "recovering" my functioning will always be compared with hers, although her condition is long-term, debilitating, and altogether different from me. I remind myself to be proud of where I am now and grateful. I think I'm considered fine now; no recent relapses and my boyfriend helped me address my attacks early in their onset, along with my living situation, fostering healthy habits to counter inappropriate self-medicating. I just have to remind myself sometimes that I am strong enough to take on life.














