Yesterday was my birthday. I’m 19 years old!
But so many classes, and group project meetings, and homework, and rehearsals … truly the busiest day I’ve had in months. I didn’t stop going until 2 a.m. Yawn!
Blessed as I am with some stinkin’ amazing friends, they baked me gluten-free peanut butter cookies and brownies (I’m gluten intolerant) and threw a dorm room party and even rented my favorite movie: Ben-Hur.
I don’t care what anyone says Charlton Heston is the definition of supreme manliness
But that’s when the problems started … naturally, I was sent home with the leftovers. And I smiled as I said ‘thanks’, all the while having this sad certainty in my mind of, well, guess this is what I’ll be bingeing on tomorrow. And I did.
I’ll be okay, but it’s frustrating, and it’s just another detour in my route to recovery. It’s hard to talk about this with my friends, because most days I’m denying that I have a problem with food and trying my hardest to just be normal.
I might have to tell my friends not to bake for me anymore. In fact, just don’t give me any food at all. It’s all triggering to me. Sad, because I know they just want to make me happy and do something lovely for me. But it’s obviously something I can’t deal with.
@1 month ago with 1 note
#ednos #binge eating #bingeing #personal
@2 months ago with 1124 notes
Well, if this isn’t just a flawless pearl from the oyster of things that are true.