I entered 2017 on a slice of hospital and will be ending 2017 on a slice of hospital. Two slices of slightly stale bread, with 365 layers of much of the same crap in between. I want to be optimistic. I want to look back on this year and say that I reached some goals, did some things to make myself proud, got stronger and healthier, perhaps learned to love myself a little bit more. It didn’t turn out to be that way, as, I guess, sometimes these things don’t. Don’t get me wrong, in some ways this year was great. In one way, it was the best of my life. On balance? Put it this way, 2018 already has a head start.
One of the magical powers all those who suffer with an eating disorder possess is that we genuinely believe we are different to everyone else. Not in a superior way, but in some way we are just not like other people. Other people need to eat. Other people would get sick and die if they didn't eat, but we're just not like that. We're different.